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THE BOY HHNTEBS; 

OR, 

ADVENTURES IN SEAECH 


A WHITE BHFEALO, 


BY 

CAPTAIN MAYNE EEID, 

AUTHOR OF “THE DESERT HOME,” ETC. 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS, BY WILLIAM HARVEY. 


A NEW EDITION, 


WITH A 


MEMOIR BY R. H. STODBA®®?®^.*^ 


NEW YORK: 
THOMAS R. KNOX 



L Lu fi 



Successors to James Miller, 
813 Broadway. 
1885. 



\ 



TZ 




Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1884, by 
THOMAS R. KNOX & CO., 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


New Yobk, January 1st, 1869. 

Messrs. Fields, Osgood & Co.:— 

I accept the terms offered, and hereby concede to you the exclusive right of 
publication, in the United States, of all my juvenile Tales of Adventure, known 
as Boys’ Novels, 

MAYNE REID. 



r'>\ 


THE BOY READERS 

ENGLAND AND AMERICA 
THIS BOOK HAS BEEN WRITTEN, AND TO THEM IT II 

Uelifcatelr; 

THAT IT MAY INTEREST THEM, 

•O AS TO RIVAL IN THEIR AFFECTIONS THE TOP, THI 
BALL, AND THE KITE — 

THAT IT MAY IMPRESS THEM, 

SO AS TO CREATE A TASTE FOR THAT MOST REFINING 
STUDY, THE STUDY OF NATURE 

THAT IT MAY BENEFIT THEM, 

BY BEGETTING A FONDNESS FOR BOOKS THE ANTIDOTES 

OF IGNORANCE, OF IDLENESS, AND VICE 

HAS BEEN THE DESIGN, AS IT IS THE SINCERE WISH, 
OF THEIR FRIEND, 

THE AUTHOR, 


1 * 



MEMOIE OF MATNE EEID, 


No one who has written hooks for the young during the 
present century ever had so large a circle of readers as 
Captain Mayne Reid, or ever was so well fitted by circum- 
stances to. write the books by which he is chiefly known. 
His life, which was an adventurous one, was ripened with 
the experience of two Continents, and his temperament, 
which was an ardent one, reflected the traits of two races. 
Irish by birth, he was American in his sympathies with 
the people of the New World, whose acquaintance he 
made at an early period, among whom he lived for years, 
and whose battles he helped to win. He was probably 
more familiar with the Southern and Western portion of 
the United States forty years ago than any native-born 
American of that time. A curious interest attaches to the 
life of Captain Reid, but it is not of the kind that casual 
biographers dwell upon. If he had written it himself it 
would have charmed thousands of readers, who can now 
merely imagine what it might have been from the glimpses 
of it which they obtain in his writings. It was not passed 
in the fierce light of publicity, but in that simple, silent 
obscurity which is the lot of most men, and is their hap- 
piness, if they only knew it. 

Briefly related, the life of Captain Reid was as follows : 
He was born in 1818, in the north of Ireland, the son of 
a Presbyterian clergyman, who was a type of the class 
which Goldsmith has described so freshly in the “ Deserted 
Village,” and was highly thought of for his labors among 
the poor of his neighborhood. An earnest, reverent man, 
to whom his calling was indeed a sacred one, he designed 
his son Mayne for the ministry, in the hope, no doubt, 
that he would be his successor. But nature had some- 
thing to say about that, as well as his good father. He 
began to study for the ministry, but it was not long before 


he was drawn in another direction. Always a great reader, 
his favorite books were descriptions of travel in foreign 
lands, particularly those which dealt with the scenery, 
the people, and the resources of America. The spell which 
these exercised over his imagination, joined to a love of 
adventure which was inherent in his temperament, and 
inherited, perhaps with his race, determined his career. 
At the age of twenty he closed his theological tomes, and 
girding up his loins with a stout heart he sailed from the 
shores of the Old World for the New. Following the 
spirit in his feet he landed at New Orleans, which was 
probably a more promising field for a young man of his 
talents than any Northern city, and was speedily engaged 
in business. The nature of this business is not stated, 
further than it was that of a trader ; but whatever it was 
it obliged this young Irishman to make long journeys into 
the interior of the country, which was almost a terra in- 
cognita. Sparsely settled, where settled at all, it was still 
clothed in primeval verdure — here in the endless reach of 
savannas, there in the depth of pathless woods, and far 
away to the North and the West in those monotonous 
ocean-like levels of land for which the speech of England 
has no name — the Prairies. Its population was nomadic, 
not to say barbaric, consisting of tribes of Indians whose 
hunting grounds from time immemorial the region was ; 
hunters and trappers, who had turned their backs upon 
civilization for the free, wild life of nature ; men of 
doubtful or dangerous antecedents, who had found it con- 
venient to leave their country for their country’s good ; 
and scattered about hardy pioneer communities from East- 
ern States, advancing waves of the great sea of emigration 
which is still drawing the course of empire westward. 
Travelling in a country like this, and among people like 
these, Mayne Reid passed five years of his early manhood. 
He was at home wherever he went, and never more so 
than when among the Indians of the Red River territory, 
with whom he spent several months, learning their lan- 
guage, studying their customs, and enjoying the wild and 
beautiful scenery of their camping grounds. Indian for 
the time, he lived in their lodges, rode with them, hunted 
with them, and night after night sat by their blazing 
camp-fires listening to the warlike stories of the braves 
and the quaint legends of the medicine men. There was 
that in the blood of Mayne Reid which fitted him to lead 
this life at this time, and whether he knew it or not it 

2 


educated Kls genius as no other life could have done. It 
familiarized him with a large extent of country in the 
South and West; it introduced him to men and manners 
which existed nowhere else ; and it revealed to him the 
secrets of Indian life and character. 

There was another side, however, to Mayne Reid than 
that we have touched upon, and this, at the end of five 
years, drew him back to the average life of his kind. We 
find him next in Philadelphia, where he began to con- 
tribute stories and sketches of travel to the newspapers 
and magazines. Philadelphia was then the most literate 
city in the United States, the one in which a clever writer 
was at once encouraged and rewarded. Frank and warm- 
hearted, he made many friends there among journalists 
and authors. One of these friends was Edgar Allan Poe, 
whom he often visited at his home in Spring Garden, and 
concerning whom years after, when he was dead, he wrote 
with loving tenderness. 

The next episode in the career of Mayne Reid was not 
what one would expect from a man of letters, though it 
was just what might have been expected from a man of 
his temperament and antecedents. It grew out of the 
time, which was warlike, and it drove him into the army 
with which the United States speedily crushed the forces 
of the sister Republic — Mexico. He obtained a commis- 
sion, and served throughout the war with great bravery 
and distinction. This stormy episode ended with a severe 
wound, which he received in storming the heights of Cha- 
pultepec — a terrible battle which practically ended the 
war. 

A second episode of a similar character, but with a more 
fortunate conclusion, occurred about four years later. It 
grew out of another war, which, happily for us, was not on 
our borders, but in the heart of Europe, where the Hun- 
garian race had risen in insurrection against the hated power 
of Austria. Their desperate valor in the face of tremen- 
dous odds excited the sympathy of the American people, 
and fired the heart of Captain Mayne Reid, who buckled 
on his sword once more, and sailed from New York with 
a body of volunteers to aid the Hungarians in their struggles 
for independence. They were too late, for hardly had 
they reached Paris before they learned that all was over : 
Gorgey had surrendered at Arad, and Hungary was 
crushed. They were at once dismissed, and Captain Reid 
betook himself to London. 


3 


The life of the Mayne Reid in whom we are most in- 
terested — Mayne Reid, the author — began at this time, 
when he was in his thirty-first year, and ended only on 
the day of his death, October 21, 1883. It covered one- 
third of a century, and was, when compared with that 
which had preceded it, uneventful, if not devoid of in- 
cident. There is not much that needs be told — not much, 
indeed, that can be told — in the life of a man of letters 
like Captain Mayne Reid. It is written in his books. 
Mayne Reid was one of the best known authors of his 
time — differing in this from many authors who are popu- 
lar without being known — and in the walk of fiction which 
he discovered for himself he is an acknowledged mas' 
ter. His reputation did not depend upon the admiration 
of the millions of young people who read his books, but 
upon the judgment of mature critics, to whom his delinea- 
tions of adventurous life were literature of no common 
order. His reputation as a story-teller was widely recog- 
nized on the Continent, where he was accepted as an 
authority in regard to the customs of the pioneers and the 
guerilla warfare of the Indian tribes, and was warmly 
praised for his freshness, his novelty, and his hardy origi- 
nality. The people of France and Germany delighted in 
this soldier- writer. “ There was not a word in his books 
which a school-boy could not safely read aloud to his 
mother and sisters.” So says a late English critic, to which 
another adds, that if he has somewhat gone out of fashion 
of late years, the more’s the pity for the school-boy of the 
period. What Defoe is in Robinson Crusoe — realistic idyl 
of island solitude — that, in his romantic stories of wilder- 
ness life, is his great scholar, Captain Mayne Reid. 

E. H. Stoddard. 


4 


PREFACE 


This Look has been written for boys. In the ende&Tor t< 
Interest the juvenile intellect, it is necessary to deal with 
physical rather than moral facts. The author is therefore 
debarred the use of that intellectual imagery, that might prove 
his pretensions to literary excellence. To the latter no claim 
is laid, in the present instance. Show and style have been 
sacrificed upon the altar of simplicity — at least, such has been 
the aim. 

While undertaking no responsibility for the truth of his 
ttory^ the author of the “ Boy Hunters ” claims consideration 
for the truthfulness of the materials out of which it is con- 
structed — what, for want of a better expression, he may be 
permitted to call the mise en schie of his little drama. He 
makes bold to indorse the genuineness of its scenery and its 
natural facts. He is not conscious of having taken any liberty, 
for the sake of effect, with the laws of nature — with its fauna, 
or its flora. Neither plant nor tree, bird nor mammal, has 
been pressed into service, beyond the limits of its geographical 
range; although, in illustrating the habits or history of God’s 
wild creatures, he has often selected only their more peculiar 
characteristics. 

Whether or not the structure may please tbe cntic, it is 
Hoped that’ he will acknowledge the goodness of the materials 
But the temple may not be a Imired, though built of the purest 
marble. 


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L IflE HOME OF THE HUNTER NATURALIS'/, 8 

U. THE HUNTER NATURALIST AND HIS FAMILI, 13 

ILL THE PRINCE’S LETTER, If 

IV. GOING ON A GREAT HUNT, . . .. it 


V. THE CAMP OP THE BOY HUNTERS, . . r 33 

VI A FOX SQUIRREL IN A FIX, 40 

VII. FRANgOIS GETS AN UGLY FALL, ... 47 

VTIl. ABOUT ALLIGATORS, ... - 8ft 

IX- THE INDIAN MOTHER AND CAIMAN, . . 71 

X- THE FOOD OP THE SILKWORM, ... 7f 

XI THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION, .... 90 

111. THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE, lift 

iUI. THREE BUFFALOES WITH WINGS l« 


8 


CONTENTS, 


fHAfTSB rAOl 

XIV A WfLD-TUKKEY HUNT, . • 13i 

XV. TKAJLING ITH A BLOODHOUND, . 143 

XVI. JEANNETTE AND THE JAVALIES, . . . 15« 

XVII. A CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLD TOSSUM, 158 
XVIII. AN ODD ADVENTURE BEFORB BREAKFAST, .71 

XIX. JERKING A BEAU, 182 

XX. A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE, . . 191 

XXI. THE CIRCLE OF FIRE, . ... 203 

XXII. THE LONE MOUND, 21C 

XXUL THE HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE, . . 219 

XXIV. A DOG TOWN, 233 

XXV. A NIGHT IN THE DESERT, ;«43 

XXVI. THE PRONG HORNS, .248 

XXVn. DECOYING AN ANTELOPE, .... 260 
KXVHL SCATTERING THE CIMMARONS, ... 265 

XXIX. BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEARS, ... 278 

XXX. AN ESCAPE FROM THE BEAR SCRAPE, , 289 


XXXI. THE VULTURES AND THEIR KING, . 297 

XXXn. MORE TALK ABOUT THE VULTURES, . 31T 

XXXIIL SUPPING UPON A SKELETON, . . »! 

XXXIV. THE BATTLE OF THE BULLS, . . 3«i 

XXXV THE MYSTERIOUS WAILET, m 


Slluatratinna. 


rAoi 

L THE DEPARTURE, 39 

11. THE ALLIGATOR AND THE BEAR, . . 53 

III. THE INDIAN MOTHER AND CAIMAN, . . .75 

IV. THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION, {Frontufutt,) 93 

V. A WILD-'ITJRKEY HU]S I, . . 133 

VL THE LYNX AND OPOSSUM, . . . . 168 

VIL THE BEAR OUTWIITED, 180 

Fill. THE CIRCLE OF FIRE, . ... 206 

IX. THE ESCAPE OF THE MUSTANG, . . .230 

X. THE PRONG HORNS AND PRAIRIE WOLVES, . 257 

XI BASIL AND THE GRIZZLY BEAR, . . 290 

HI DEATH OF THE BUFFALO BULL, 


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CHAPTER 1. 


IHK HOME OF THE HUNTER NATURALIST. 

with me to the great River Mississippi. It if 
the longest river in the world. A line that would 
measure it would just reach to the centre of the 
earth, — in other words, it is four thousand miles in 
length. Go with me to this majestic river. 

I do not wish you to travel to its source ; only 
as far up as Point Coupee, about three hundred 
miles from its mouth. There we shall stop for 
a while — a very short while — for we have a long 
journey to make. Our route lies to the far west — 
over the great prairies of Texas ; and from Point 
Coupee we shall take our departure. 

There is a village at Point Coupee — a quaint, old. 
French-looking village, built of wood. In point of 
fact it is a French village ; for it was one of the 
earliest settlements of that people, who, with the 
Spaniards, were the first colonists of Western 
America. Hence we find, to this day, French and 
Spanish people, with French and Spanish names 
and customs, all through the Mississippi valley and 
the regions that lie west of it. 


lO THE HOME OF THE HUNTER NATURALIST 

We have not much to do with these things at 
present, and very little to say of Point Coupee, 
more tlian vi^e have already said. Our subject is 
an odd-looking house, that, many years ago, stood 
upon the western bank of the river, about a mile 
below the village. I say it stood there many years 
ago ; but it is very likely that it is still standing, 
as it was a firm, well-built house, of hewn logs, 
carefully chinked, and plastered between the chinks 
with nni lime. It was roofed with cedar shingles 
that projected at the eaves, so as to cast off the 
rain, and keep the walls dry. It was what in 
that country is called a “ double house,” — that is, a 
large passage ran across the middle of it, through 
which you might have driven a wagon loaded with 
hay. This passage was roofed and ceiled like the 
rest of the house, and floored with strong planks. 
The flooring, elevated a foot above the surface of the 
ground, projected several feet in front of the passage, 
where carved uprights of cedar wood supported a 
light roof, forming a porch or veranda. Around 
these uprights, and upon the railing that shut in the 
veranda, clung vines, rose bushes, and convolvulus 
plants, that at certain seasons of the year were clus- 
tered over with beautiful flowers. 

The house faced the river, standing, as I have said, 
cn its western bank — on the same side ^vith Point 
Coupee. In front was a lawn, some two hundred 
yards in length, that stretched toward the river, and 
ended on the low bluff forming its bank. This lawn 
was enclosed by high rail fences, and variegated with 
clumps of shrubbery and ornamental trees. Most of 


THE HOME OF THE AJTNTER NATURALIST. 11 


them weie indigenous to the country ; but there were 
exotics as well. Among the trees you could not fail 
to notice the large-flowered magnolia, [Magnolia 
grandijlora^) the red mulberry, [Morns ruhra^) the 
pale green leaves of the catalpii, the tall tulip tree, 
[liriodendron^) and the shining foliage of the orange. 

In contrast with the brighter frondage of these were 
dark cone-shaped cedars, and spire-like forms of tho 
yew. There were date trees and weeping willows 
growing upon the river bank, and drooping gracefully 
over its current. Other plants and trees might be dis- 
tinguished — the natives of a southern clime — such 
as the great Mexican aloe, [Agave Americana^) the 
bayonet blades of the yucca, and the fan-like leaves 
of the palmetto. Beautiful birds of many varieties 
might be seen among the copses, or moving over the 
grassy sward of the lawn. 

In the great hall or passage, already mentioned, a 
ftingular picture presented itself. Along the walls, 
on both sides, were suspended various implements of 
the chase, such as rifles, shot guns, pouches, flasks, 
hunting knives, and, in short, eveiy species of trap, 
net, or implement, that could be devised for capturing 
the wild denizens of the earth, air, and water. Horns 
of the stag and elk were fastened to the hewn logs ; 
and upon their branching antlers hung hair bridles, 
and high-peaked saddles of the Mexican or Spanish 
fashion. In addition to these were skins of rare 
birds and quadrupeds, artistically preserved by stuff- 
ng, and placed on pedestals around the wooden walls. 
There were glass cases, too, containing moths, but- 
terflies, and other insects, impaled upon pins, and 


12 THE HOME OF THE HUNTER NATURiiLIST. 

wrangod in systematic order. In short, this hah 
resembled a little museum. 

Were we to enter and examine the inside of the 
house, we should find three or four good-sized rooms, 
comfortably furnished, and all stocked with subjects 
of natural history, and implements of the chase. In 
one of the rooms we should see a barometer and 
thermometer hanging against the wall, an old clock 
over the mantel-piece, a sabre and pistols, and a book- 
case containing many choice and valuable books. 

To the rear of the house we should find a small 
kitchen built of logs, and containing the usual culinary 
utensils. Still farther back we should meet with an 
enclosed yard, having a storehouse and stable at one 
end. In the stables we should find four horses, and 
several mules might be observed in the enclosure. 
A large reddish dog with long ears, and having the 
appearance of a hound, might be seen straying about 
the yard, and would not fail to attract our attention. 

An observer, viewing this house from a distance, 
would take it for the residence of a wealthy planter ; 
on a nearer inspection, however, it would not pass 
for that. There were no rows of negro cabins, no 
great sugar mills, nor tobacco warehouses, such as 
are always to be seen near the planter’s dwelling. 
Nothing of the sort ; nor was there any veiy large 
tract of cultivated land contiguous to the house. 
The dark cypress forest in the background cast it* 
shadow almost up to the walls. Plainly it was not 
the dwelling of a planter. What then was it, and 
who were its inmates ? It was the home of a 
Hunter Naturalist, 


TMK rniNTER NATURALIST AND HIS i^AMILV. 13 


CHAPTER II. 

THE HUNTER NATURALIST AND HIS lAMILY. 

In 1815 was fought the famous battle of Waterloo 
and in the same year Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled 
to the island rock of St. Helena. Many French 
officers, who had followed the fortunes of the grea.1 
adventurer, at that time emigrated to America. Most 
of these, as was very natural, sought the French set 
tlements on the Mississippi, and there made theii 
homes for life. Among them was one named Landi 
who had been a colonel of chasseurs in Napoleon’s 
army. He was by birth a Corsican ; and it was 
through his being a friend and early acquaintance of 
one of the Bonaparte family that he had been in 
duced to become an officer in the French army — for 
in his youth he had been fonder of science than 
soldiering. 

While campaigning in Spain, Landi had married 
a Basque lady, by whom he had three children, all 
sons. Their mother died before the battle of Water 
'oo was fought ; so that when Landi emigrated to 
America his family consisted of his three sons alone. 

He first went to St. Louis, but after a while moved 
down the river to Point Coupee, in Louisiana, where 
he purchased the house we have just described, and 
nad) it his home 
2 


It THE HHNTEH naturalist AND HIS FAMILY. 

Let me tell you that he was not in any circum 
stances of necessity. Previous to his departure foi 
America, he had sold his patrimonial estates in Cor- 
sica for a sum of money — enough to have enabled 
him to live without labor in any country, but particu- 
larly in that free land of cheap food and light taxation 
• - the land of his adoption. He was, therefore, un- 
der no necessity of following any trade or profession 
in his new home — and he followed none. How 
then did he employ his time } I will tell you. He 
was an educated man. Previous to his entering the 
French army he had studied the natural sciences. 
He was a naturalist. A naturalist can find employ- 
ment any where — can gather both instruction and 
amusement where others would die of ennui and 
idleness. Remember ! there are “ sermons in stones, 
and books in running brooks.” He was not a closet 
naturalist either. Like the great Audubon he was 
fond of the outside world. He was fond of drawing 
his lessons from Nature herself. He combined a 
passion for the chase with his more delicate taste for 
scientific pursuits ; and where could he have better 
placed himself to indulge in these than in the great 
region of the Mississippi valley, teeming with objects 
of interest both to the hunter and the naturalist > In 
my opinion, he made good choice of his home. 

Well, between hunting, and fishing, and stuffing 
his birds, and preseiwing the skins of rare quadrupeds, 
and planting and pruning his trees, and teaching his 
boys, and training his dogs and horses, Landi was far 
from being idle. His boys, of course, assisted him in 
these occupations, as far as they were able. But ho 
had another assistant — Hugot. 


THE HUNTER NATURALIST AND HIS FAMILY. 19 


Who was Hu^ot ? I shall describe Hugot foi 
jrour benefit. 

Hugot was a Frenchman — a w^ry small French* 
man, indeed — not over five feet four inches in 
height. He was dapper and tidy — had a large 
aquiline nose, and, notwithstanding his limited stat- 
ure, a pair of tremendous mustaches, that curved over 
his mouth so as almost to hide it. These gave him 
a somewhat fierce aspect, which, combined with his 
upright carriage, and brisk, mechanical-like move- 
ments, told you at once what Hugot had been — a 
French soldier. He was, in fact, a ci-devant corpora' 
of chasseurs. Landi had been his colonel. The 
rest you will easily guess. He had followed his old 
leader to America, and was now his man for every 
thing. It was not often that you could see the natu- 
ralist without also seeing Hugot’s great mustaches 
close by his elbow. It would have killed Hugot to 
have been separated for any length of time from his 
old colonel. 

Of course Hugot accompanied his master in all his 
n anting expeditions. So, too, did the boys, as soon 
as they were able to sit upon a horse. On these oc- 
casions the house would be shut up, for there was no 
housekeeper nor any other domestic about the estab- 
lishment. It would remain thus for days, sometimes 
for weeks together — for the naturalist with his party 
often made distant excursions into the surrounding 
forests. They would return laden with spoils — 
skins of birds and beasts, plants, and rare geological 
specimens. Then whole days would be spent in the 
arrangement of these new acquisitions. Thus d d 
Landi and his family pass their time. 


16 THE HUNTER NATURALIST AND HIS FAMILY. 

Hugot was cook, valet, groom, butler, and errand 
boy. I have already stated that no other domestic, 
male or female, lived in the house : Hugot, therefore 
was chambermaid as wel' . His manifold occupa- 
tions, however, were not so difficult to fulfil as might 
at first appear. The colonel was a man of simple 
habits. He had learned these when a soldier, and 
he brought up his sons to live like himself. He ate 
plain food, drank only water, and slept upon a camp 
bed, with a buffalo robe and a blanket. A laundress 
in Point Coupee, kept the linen clean ; and Hugot 
was not near so busy with house affairs as you might 
suppose. He made daily journeys to the village — 
to the market, and the post office, from which he 
often brought letters, many of them with large seals, 
and the arms of a prince upon them ! Sometimes, 
too, after a steamer had called at the landing, parcels 
arrived containing books — scientific books they were 
— or curious instruments. Notwithstanding all this, 
there was nothing mysterious about the life of the 
hunter naturalist. He was no misanthrope. He 
often visited the village, and would gossip with old 
hunters and others who lived there. The villagers 
knew him as the “ old colonel,” and respected him. 
They only wondered at his tastes as a naturalist, 
which to them seemed strange. They wondered, 
too, how he managed to keep house without a maid 
servant. But the colonel did not trouble his head 
about their conjectures. He only laughed at their 
curious inquiries, and remained on as good terms as 
ever. His boys, too, as they grew up became great 
favorites with all. They were the best shots of theii 


THE H (INTER NATTTRALIbr AND HIS FAMILY. 17 


a^e, could ride a horse with any, could swim the 
Mississippi, paddle a canoe, fling a lasso, or spear a 
catfish, as though they had been full-grown men. 
They were, in fact, hoy men ; and as such were re 
garded by the simple villagers, who instinctively felt 
the superiority which education and training had 
given to these youths over their .awn uneducated 
minds. The boys, notwithstanding these advantages, 
were affable with the villagers ; hence the respect in 
which they were universally held. 

None of his neighbors ever visited the colonel, 
except on matters of business. Indeed he had no 
risitors of any sort, if we except one or two of his 
former military associates, who lived at New Orleans, 
and came up to his house about once a year to talk 
over old times, and taste his venison. On such occa- 
sions “ Napoleon le Grand ” was of coui-se the main 
subject of conversation. Like all old soldiers of the 
empire, Landi worshipped Napoleon ; but there was 
one of the Bonaparte family for whom the naturalist 
entertained a still higher feeling of regard, amount- 
ing in fact to sincere friendship. This was Charles 
Lucien, Prince of Musignano. 

Not all the Bonapartes have been bad. Some of 
the membei-s of that remarkable family have given 
evidence to the world that they were the possessors 
of noble virtue. The quiet researches of the Prince 
of Musignano as a student of natural history, may be 
looked upon as so many conquests in the kingdom of 
Nature ; and though they have been eclipsed by the 
more brilliant and sanguinary triumphs of the em 
peror, yet do they far more entitle him to the grati* 

2 * B 


18 THE HUNTER NATURALIST AND HIS FAMILF. 

tude and respect of men. He weus the true hero of 
the hunter naturalist Landi. 

For many years did Colonel Landi lead the life W6 
have described. An event at length happened that 
was near proving fatal to him. He had been wound- 
ed in the leg during his campaigns in the Peninsula. 
A fall from his horse reopened this wound, and am- 
putation became necessaiy. This saved his life, but 
he could no longer partake of the amusements of the 
chase, although still able to indulge in the more deli- 
cate pursuits of the naturalist. With his wooden leg 
he was able to hobble about the house and lawn, 
prune the trees, and attend to his pets that had grown 
to be quite numerous, while Hugot at all times fol- 
lowed him about like his shadow. The boys, how- 
ever, went abroad on hunting expeditions, and col- 
lected specimens as formerly , and the life of all 
went on pretty much as usual. 

Thus it was when I first became acquainted witfc 
the naturalist, his man Hugot, and his three sons — 
the Boy Hunters^ the heroes of our little book. 

Young reader, permit me to introduce you to a 
more intimate acquaintance with them. I fancy 
you will like them — all three — and be happy foi 
K)me tine in their society. 


THE prince’s letter. 


19 


CHAPTER III. 

THE PRINCE’S LETTER. 


It is a lovely morning in spring as we approach 
fiieir dwelling. We enter the lawn by a side gate. 
We need not go into the house, for there is no one 
within doors. The weather is too fine for that, but 
they are all at home, notwithstanding. They are in 
the lawn in front, and the veranda. 

They are differently occupied. The colonel him- 
self is engaged feeding his pets. Hugot is helping 
him, and carries the basket containing their food. 

You would call the colonel a fine-looking man. 
His hair is as white as bleached flax. So, too, are 
his mustaches. He wears no beard. His face is 
cleanly shaved, showing a complexion bronzed and 
somewhat ruddy. The expression of his counte- 
nance is mild, though firm. He is much thinner 
than he has been in his time, on account of the 
amputation of his leg, which often produces this 
effect. His dress is simple — a jacket of yellow 
nankeen, a striped cotton shirt, with loose cot- 
tonade trousers of bright sky color. A Panama 
hat, with very broad brim, shades his eyes from the 
sun, and his shirt is open at the throat, for the day 
is warm. Thus is the colonel attired. Hugot is 
dressed after a somewhat similar fashion ; bu the 


20 


THE PRINCE S LETTEft. 


material of his jacket and trousers is coarser, and hi« 
hat is of the common palmetto leaf. 

Look at Basil, the oldest of the bo^ s. He is at 
work fixing some straps to a hunting saddle, that 
lies on the grass beside him. Basil is exactly sev- 
enteen years of age. He is a fine-looking lad, though 
not what you might call handsome. His face has 
a courageous expression, and his form betokens 
strength. His hair is straight, and black as jet 
He is more like an Italian than either of his brothers. 
He is, in fact, the son of his father — a true Corsi- 
can. Basil is a “ mighty hunter.” He is more fond 
of the chase than of ought else. He loves hunting 
for itself, and delights in its dangers. He has got 
beyond the age of bird-catching and squiii el -shoot* 
ing. His ambition is not now to be satvilied with 
any thing less exciting than a panther, bear, or buffalo 
hunt. 

How very unlike him is Lucien, the second in age ! 
Unlike in almost every thing. Lucien is delicately 
formed, with a light complexion and very fair hair. 
He is more like what his mother was, for she was 
fair haired and blonde^ as are many of her people — 
the Basques. Lucien is passionately foiiJ of books 
and study. He is busy with a book just now in the 
veranda He is a student of natural history in 
general, but botany and geology are his favorite 
sciences, and he has made considerable progress in 
both. He accompanies Basil on all hunting expe- 
ditions ; but, in the midst of the most exciting chase, 
Lucion would leap down from his horse if a rare 
plant or flower, or an odd-looking rock, was to fall 


THE prince’s letter. 


3] 


ttnder his eye. Lucien talks but little — not half 
sc much as most boys — but, although habitually 
silent, he possesses a rare good sense ; and wheii 
he offers his advice upon any question, it is usually 
received with respect by the others. Such is tne 
secret influence of intellect and education. 

Next and last, we have Fran9ois, a quick-witted, 
curly-haired urchin — merry to madness — cheerful 
at all times — changeable in his tastes and likings 

— versatile in talents — in short, more of a French- 
man than any of them. Francois is a great bird- 
catchei He is at this moment engaged in repairing 
his nets; and his double-barrel shot gun, which he 
has just finished cleaning, rests beside him. Fran- 
9ois is a favorite with every body, but a great pest 
to Hugot, upon whom he plays numerous tricks. 

While the naturalist and his family were thus 
engaged, a loud, booming noise was heard at some 
distance off, down the river. It somewhat resembled 
the regular firing of great guns, though the explo- 
sions sounded softer and more hollow. 

“ A steamboat ! ” cried Fran9ois, whose ear first 
caught the sounds. , 

“ Yes,” muttered Basil, “ from New Orleans, I 
expect, and bound to St. Louis.” 

“ No, brother,” said Lucien, quietly raising him- 
self from his book. “ She is an Ohio boat.” 

“ How can you tell that. Luce .? ” inquired Fran9oi8, 

“From the sound of her ’scape, of course. ^ 
can distinguish the boat. She is the ‘ Buckeye 

— mail boat for Cincinnati.” 


22 


THE PRINCE''S LETTER. 


Ill a short time the white cloud of steam was seen 
ascending over the trees ; and then the huge vesso 
came “ bulging ” around a bend of the river, cleaving 
the brown current as she went. She was soon oppo- 
Bite the lawn ; and, sure enough, proved to be what 
Lucien had said she was — the mail steamer “ Buck- 
eye.” This was a triumph for Lucien, although he 
bore it with characteristic modesty. 

The boat had not passed many minutes, when the 
loud screeching of her steam was heard in the direc- 
tion of Point Coupee. They could tell from this 
that she was putting in at the landing. 

“ Hugot ! ” cried the colonel, “ there may be 
something for us. Go and see.” 

Without waiting for further orders, Hugot started 
on hi I errand. He was a brisk walker, Hugot, and 
was Itack again in a trice. He brought with him 
a letter of goodly size and appearance. 

“ From Prince Lucien ! ” cried Fran9ois, who was 
sure to have the first word in every thing. “ It 
is from the prince, papa ; I know the seal.” 

“ Quiet, Fran9ois ! quiet ! ” said his father, re- 
piovingly, at the same time hobbling into the veran* 
da, and calling for his spectacles. 

The letter was soon opened and perused. 

“ Hugot ! ” cried the colonel, after he had finished 
imding it. 

Hugot made no reply, but threw himself in front 
of his master, with his hand raised to his eyebrows 
8 la militaire. 

“ Hugot, you must go to St. Lcuis ” 

“ mon colonel I ” 


THE prince’s letter. 


21 


“ fou must start by the first boat.” 

“ Tres-hien^ mon colonel ! ” 

“ You must procure for me the skin of a whit^ 
huffahy 

“ That will not be difficult, monsieur.” 

“ More difficult than you imagine, I fear.” 

“ With money, monsieur ? ” 

“Ay, even with money, Hugot. Look you! It 
lb a skin I want — not a robe — but a perfect skin, 
with the head, feet, and all complete, and fit for 
stuffing.” 

“ Ah ! mon colonel ! that is different.” 

“ Ah ! you may say so. I fear it will be difficult, 
indeed,” soliloquized the colonel, with a thoughtful 
air. “ I very much doubt whether we can get it at 
all ; but it must be had, cost what it may — ay, cosf 
what it mayy 

“ I will do my best, colonel.” 

“ Try at every fur store in St. Louis, — inquire 
among the hunters and trappers — you know where 
to find them. If these fail you, put an advertisement 
in the newspapers — advertise both in English and 
French. Go to M. Choteau — any where. Spare ne 
expense, but get me the skin.” 

“ Restez tranquille^ mon colonel ; I shall do all 
that.” 

“ Make ready, then, to start. There may be a 
Steamer going up before night. Hush ! I hear one 
this very moment. It may be a St. Louis boat.” 

All stood for a moment silent and listening. The 
’scape of another boat coming up the river could be 
heard plain enough. 


81 


THE prince’s letter. 


“ It is a St. Louis boat,” said Lucien. “ It is th« 
‘Belle of the West.’ ” 

Lucien, who had a quick talent in that way, could 
s tell, by the sound of their steam pipe, almost every 
boat that plied upon the Mississippi. In half an hour 
the steamer hove in sight, and it was seen that he 
had again guessed correctly. It was a St. LouLs 
boat, and the “ Belle of the West,” too ! 

Hugot had not many preparations to make and 
before the boat had arrived opposite to the house, he 
had arranged every thing — received some further 
instructions, with a purse of money, from his master 
— and was off to Point Coupee to meet the steamer 
Et the landing. 


ooihg on a great hunt. 


2fl 


CHAPTER IV. 

GOING ON A GREAT HUNT. 

‘t v/as full three weeks before Hugot returned. 
Thev were a long three weeks to the old colonel, 
who was troubled with apprehensions that Hugot 
would not succeed in his errand. He had written 
in reply to the letter of Prince Bonaparte. He had 
written promising to procure — if possible — a white 
buffalo skin, — for this was what the prince’s letter 
was about, — and not for half what he was worth 
would the colonel have failed to accomplish this 
object. No wonder, then, he was impatient and un- 
easy during Hugot’s absence. 

Hugot returned at length, after night. The colonel 
did not wait until he entered the house, but met him 
at the door, candle in hand. He need not have put 
any question, as Hugot’s face answered that question 
before it was asked. The moment the light fell 
upon it, any one could have told that Hugot had 
come back vrithout the skin. He looked quite crest- 
fallen * and his great mustaches appeared bleached 
and drooping. 

“ You have not got it ? ” interrogated the colonel 
11 a faltering voice. 

“ No, colonel,” muttered Hugot in reply 

“ You tried every where ? ” 

3 


26 


GOING ON A GREAT HUNT. 


“ Every where ? ” 

“ You advertised in the papers ? ” 

“ In all the papers, monsieur.” 

“ You offered a high price ? ” 

“ I did. It was to no purpose. I could not liare 
procured a white buffalo’s skin if I had offered ten 
times as much. I could not have got it for a thou- 
sand dollars.” 

“ I would give five thousand ! ” 

“ It would have been all the same, monsieur: It 
is not to be had in St. Louis.” 

“ What says M. Choteau ” 

“That there is but little chance of finding wha. 
you want. A man, he says, may travel all over the 
prairies without meeting with a white buffalo. The 
Indians prize them beyond any thing, and never le. 
one escape when they chance to fall in with it. I 
found two or three among the fur packs of the traders, 
out they were not what you desire, monsieur. They 
were robes ; and even for them a large sum was 
asked.” 

“ They would be of no use. It is wanted for a 
different purpose — for a great museum. Ah ! I fear 
I cannot obtain it. If not to be had in St. Louis, 
where else } ” 

“ Where else, papa } ” interrupted Fran9ois, who, 
with his brothers, had stood listening to the above 
dialogue. “ Where else but on the prairies ? ’ 

“ On the prairies ! ” mechanically echoed hia 
father. 

“Yes, papa. Send Basil, and Lucien, and my 
self. We’ll find you a white buffalo, I warrant 
you.” 


dOING ON A GREAT HUNT. 


21 


“ Hu^Tali, Fran 9 ois! ” cried Basil ; “ you’re right 
brother. I was going to propose the same myself.” 

“ No, no, my lads ; you’ve heard what M. Choteau 
says. You need not think of such a thing. It can- 
not be had. And I have written to the prince, too. 
I have as good as promised him ! ” 

As the old colonel uttered these words, his coun- 
tenance and gestures expressed disappointment and 
chagrin. 

Lucien, who had observed this with a feeling of 
pain, now interposed. 

“ Papa,” he said, “ it is true that M. Choteau has 
great experience in the fur trade ; but the facts do 
not correspond with what he has stated.” (Lucien, 
you will observe was a keen reasoner.) “ Hugot has 
seen two or three of these skins in St. Louis. Some 
one must have found the animals to which these 
belonged. Moreover, I have heard, as M. Choteau 
asserts, that they are highly prized by the Indian 
chiefs, who wear them as robes; and that they are 
3ften seen among the tribes. This, then, proves 
that there are white buffaloes upon the prairies ; 
and why should we not happen upon them as well as 
others.? I say with Francois and Basil, let us go 
in search of them.” 

“ Come in, my lads ; come in,” said their father, 
evidently pleased, and to some extent comforted, with 
the proposal of his boys. “ Come in to the house — 
we can talk over it better when we have had our 
Aippers.” 

And so saying, the old colonel hobbled back into 
die house, followed by his three boys ; whi e Hugot 


28 


GOING ON A GREAT H 


ooking ver)' jaded, and feeling veiy hungry', brought 
up the rear. 

During the supper, and after it, the subject was 
discussed in all its bearings. The father was more 
than half inclined to consent to the proposal of his 
sons from the first ; while they, but particularly 
Basil and Fran9ois, were enthusiastic in proving its 
practicability. I need hardly tell you the result 
The colonel at length gave his consent — the 
dition was agreed upon. 

The naturalist was greatly influenced by the desire 
he felt to gratify his friend the prince.\ He was in- 
fluenced, too, by another feeling. He felt secretly 
pleased at the bold and enterprising character thus 
exhibited in his children, and he was not the man 
to throw cold water upon any enterprise they might 
design. Indeed, he often boasted to his neighbors 
Find friends how he had trained them up to be men, 
calling them his “boy men,” and his jeunes chas^ 
seurs.'^ And truly had he trained them to a corn 
plete self-reliance, as far as lay in his power. Ho 
had taught them to ride, to swim., to dive deep rivers, 
to fling the lasso, to climb tall trees, and scale steep 
eliffs, to bring down birds upon the wing, or beasts 
upon the run, with the arrow and the unerring rifle. 
He had trained them to sleep in the open air — in 
the dark forest — on the unsheltered prairie — alor. g 
the white snow-wreath — any where — with but a 
blanket or a buffalo robe for their beds. He had 
laught them to live upon the simplest food ; and the 
knowledge of practical botany which he had imparted 
to them — more particularly to Lucien — would enable 


GOING ON A GREAT HUNT. 


219 


:hem in case of need, to draw sustenance from plants 
and trees, from roots and fruits — to fin^ resources 
where ignorant men might starve. They knew how 
to kindle a fire without either flint, steel, or deto- 
nating powder. They could discover their direction 
without a compass — from the rocks, and the trees 
and the signs of the heavens ; and, in addition to all 
they had been taught, as far as was then known, thr 
geography of that vast wilderness that stretched 
from their own home to the far shores of the Pacific 
Ocean. 

The colonel knew that he might safely trust them 
jpon the prairies ; and, in truth, it was with a feeling 
of pride, rather than anxiety, that he consented to 
the expedition. But there was still another motive 
that influenced him — perhaps the most powerful 
of all. He was inspired by the pride of the natural- 
ist. He thought of the triumph he would obtain by 
sending such a rare contribution to the great museum 
of Europe. If ever, my young reader, you should 
become a naturalist, you will comprehend how strong 
this feeling may be; and with our hunter naturalist 
it was so. 

At first he proposed that Hugot should accompany 
them. This the boys would not hear of, and all three 
stoutly opposed it. They could not think of taking 
Flugot — their father would require Hugot at home — 
Hugot would be of no use to them, they said. They 
would do as well, if not better, without him. 

The truth was, that these ambitious young hunter* 
did not wish to be robbed^ of any part of the credit 
of their enterprise — which they knew would be th« 
3 * 


;iO 


GOING ON A GREAT HUNT. 


case if Hugot were to accompany them. Not that 
Hugot was by any means a noted hunter — quite the 
contrary — nor a warrior neither, notwithstanding he 
had been a chasseur d cheval, and wore such fierce 
mustaches. All this his old colonel knew very well 
and therefore did not much insist upon sending 
Hugot with them. 

Hugot’s talents shone best in another sphere of 
action — in the cuisine. There Hugot was at home, 
for he could compound an omelet, fricassee a chick- 
en, or dress a canard aux olives.^ with Monsieur 
Soyer himself. But Hugot — although for many 
years he had accompanied his old and young mas- 
ters in the chase — had no taste whatever for hunting. 
He had a wholesome dread of bears and panthers 
and as to Indians .... Ha! Indians ! 

Now, you will wonder, my young friend,, when you 
come to think of these Indians — when you come to 
consider that fifty warlike nations of them live and 
roam over the prairies — many of them sworn foes to 
white men, killing the latter wherever they may meet 
them, as you would a mad dog or a poisonous spider, 
— I say, when you consider these things, you will 
wonder that this old French or Corsican father should 
consent to let his sons go upon so dangerous an ex- 
pedition. It seems unnatural, does it not } in fact, 
quite improbable, when we come to reflect that the 
colonel dearly loved his three sons, almost as dearly 
as h.s own life. And yet one would say, he could 
hardly have found a readier plan to get rid of them 
than thus to send them forth among savages. Upon 
what, then did he rely for their safety } On theii 


GOING ON A GREAT HUNT. 


31 


age ? No. He knew the Indians better than that 
He knew veiy well that their age would not be cared 
5or, should they chance to fall in with any of the 
tribes hostile to the whites. It is true, that the sav- 
ages might not scalp them on this account, — being 
boys, — but they would be very certain to carry them 
into a captivity from which they might never return. 
Or did their father anticipate that the excursion should 
extend no farther than the country of some friendly 
tribe ? He entertained no such idea. Had this been 
their plan, their errand would have been likely to 
prove fruitless. In a country of that sort they would 
have seen but little of the buffalo ; for it is well 
known that the buffaloes are only found in plenty 
upon those parts of the prairies termed “ war 
grounds,” — that is, were several tribes go to hunt, 
who are at war with each other. In fact, that is the 
reason why these animals are more numerous there 
than elsewhere, as the hunters are fewer, on account 
of the danger they incur of coming into collision 
with each other. In a territory which is exclusively 
in possession of any particular tribe, the buffaloes 
are soon killed or run off by incessant hunting. It is 
a fact, therefore, well known among prairie hunters, 
that wherever buffaloes are plenty there is plenty of 
danger as well, though the converse of this is net 
always true. On the neutral or “ war grounds ” of 
the Indians, you may meet with a friendly tribe one 
day, and on the next, or even within the next hour, 
you may fall in with a band of savages who will 
scalp you on sight. 

Now, the father of our three boy hunters knew all 
this, as well as I know it. How, then, are we to 


m 


GOING ON A GREAT HUNT. 


account for his apparently unnatural conduct, in per 
mitting them to risk their lives in such an enterprise ? 
It would be quite unaccountable indeed, were it not 
tliat there was a mystery connected with it, whic.h 1 
shall explain to you hereafter. All I can tell you 
DOW is, that when the three were mounted and about 
to start, the colonel hobbled up ; and, drawing from 
his pocket a small leathern bag or ease ornamented 
with stained porcupine quills, he handed it to Basil, 
saying as he did so, “ Take good care of it, Basil — 
you know its use — never let it part from you — your 
lives may depend upon it. God he with you, my 
hrave boys. Adieu ! ” Basil took the case, passed 
the string over his shoulders, pushed the bag under 
the breast of his hunting shirt, pressed his father’s 
hand, and putting the spur to his horse rode briskly 
off. Lucien saluted his father with a kiss, waved his 
hand gracefully to Hugot, and followed. Francois 
remained a moment behind the rest — rode up to 
Hugot — caught hold of his great mustache, gave it 
a twitch that caused the ex-chasseur to grin again • 
and then, with a loud yell of laughter, wheeled his 
pony, and galloped after his brothers. 

The colonel and Hugot stood for some moments 
watching them. When the boy hunters had reached 
the edge of the woods, all three reined up, turned in 
their saddles, and taking otf their hats, uttered a part- 
ing cheer. The colonel and Hugot cheered in return 
When the noise had subsided, the voice of Fran§OM? 
was heard shouting back, — 

“ Fear not, papa ! we’ll bring you the whiu 
Buffalo I ” 


THE. CAMP OF THE BOY IIU^'TERS. 


Ha 


CHAPTER V. 

THE CAMP OF THE BOY HUNTEK8. 


Our young adventurers turned their faces west 
ward, and were soon riding under the shadows of 
majestic woods. At this time there were few white 
settlements west of the Mississippi River. The small 
towns upon its banks, with here and there a settler’s 
“ clearing ” or a squatter’s cabin, were the only signs 
of civilization to be met with. A single day’s ride 
in a westerly direction would carry the traveller clear 
of all these, and launch him at once into the laby- 
rinth of swamps and woods, that stretched away for 
hundreds of miles before him. It is true, there were 
some scattered settlements upon the bayous farther 
west, but most of the country between them was a 
wilderness. 

In an hour or so our travellers had ridden clear of 
the settlements that surrounded Point Coupee, and 
were following the forest “ trails,” rarely travelled 
except by roving Indians, or the white hunters of the 
border country. The boys knew them well. They 
had often passed that way on former hunting expe- 
ditions. 

I shall not detail top minutely the events that 
occurred along their line of maun. This would lire 
3 c 


34 


THE CAMP OF THE BOY HUNTERS. 


you, and take up too much space. I shall take you 
at once to their first encampment, where they had 
halted for the night. 

It was in a small glade or opening, such as are 
often met with in the forests west of the Mississippi. 
There was about an acre of clear ground, covered 
with grass and flowers, among which helianthus ana 
blue luj)ines were conspicuous. Tall trees grew all 
around ; and you could tell from their leaves that 
these trees were of different kinds. You might have 
told that from their trunks as well, for these were un- 
like each other. Some were smooth, while upon oth- 
ers the bark was cracked and crisped outward, in 
large scales a foot or more in length. The beautiful 
tulip tree (liriodendron) was easily distinguished by 
its straight column-like trunks, out of which are 
sawed those great planks of white poplar you may 
have seen, for that is the name by which it is known 
among carpenters and builders. The name of tulip 
tree comes from its flowers, which in size and shape 
very much resemble tulips, and are of a greenish- 
yellow color tinged with orange. It was the charac- 
teristic tree around the glade. There were many 
others, though ; and most conspicuous, with its large 
wax-like leaves and blossoms, was the magnolia 
grandiflora. The lofty sugar maple (acer saccha 
rinum) was seen, and lower down the leafy buckeye 
(cBSCulus jlava) with its pretty orange flowers, and 
the shell bark hickory — the juglans alba of the bot- 
anists. Huge creeping plants stretched from tree to 
tree, or ran slanting upward ; and on one side of the 
glade you might observe the thick cane reeds, (arundo 


X 


\UE CAMP OF THE BOY HUNTERB. 35 

.^igantea,) growing like tall grass. The forest on 
the other side was more open ; no doubt, because 
some former fire had burned down the underwood in 
that direction. The fan-like leaves of palmettoes and 
yuccas, growing all around, gave a southern and trop- 
ical aspect to the scene. 

The young hunters had halted nearly two hours 
before sunset, in order to give time to prepare their 
night camp. About half an hour after their halt, 
the little, glade presented a picture somewhat aa 
follows : Near its edge stood a small canvas tent 
like a white cone or pyramid. The fly, or opening, 
was thrown back, for the evening was fine, and there 
was no one inside. A little to one side of the tent 
lay three saddles upon the grass. They were of the 
Mexican fashion, with high pommel and cantle, a 
“ horn ” in front, with a staple and ring firmly fas- 
tened in the wood of the tree. There were several 
thongs of leather fastened to other rings behind the 
cantle ; but the stirrups were steel ones, and not 
those clumsy blocks of wood which so much difigure 
the Mexican saddle. Beside the saddles was an odd. 
looking object. It resembled a gigantic book, partly 
open, and set upon the opened edges. It was a pack- 
saddle^ also of Mexican fashion, and in that country 
called an “ alpareja.” It had a strong leathern girth, 
with a breech strap to keep it from running forward 
upon the shoulders of the animal that might wear it. 
At a short distance from the saddles, several blankets 
— red and green ones — with a bearskin and a couple 
of buffalo robes, were lying upon the grass ; and on 
% branch overhead hung whips, bridles, wate- gourda^ 


86 


THE CAMP OF THE BOY HUNTERS 


and spurs. Against the trunk of a tulip tree, ‘hal 
lo\v(;red over the tent, rested three guns. Two of 
them were rifles, of which one was much longer thar 
the (/.her : the third piece was a double-barrelled shot 
gun. Bullet pouches and powder horns hung from 
the muzzles of all three, their straps being suspendea 
from the projecting ends of the rammers. 

On the opposite or leeward side of the tent a fire 
was burning. It had not been long kindled, and 
crackled as it blazed. You could easily have told 
(he strong red flame to be that of the shell-bark hick- 
J>r}’^, — the best firewood, — though dry sticks of some 
lighter wood had been used to kindle it. On each 
side of the fire a forked stick was stuck into the 
ground, with the forks at the top ; and on these rested 
a fresh-cut sapling, placed horizontally to serve as a 
crane. A two-gallon camp kettle of sheet iron was 
suspended upon it and over the fire, and the water in 
the kettle was just beginning to boil. Other utensils 
were strewed around. There was a fiying pan, some 
tin cups, several small packages containing flour, dried 
meat, and coffee ; a coffee pot of strong tin, a small 
spade, and a light axe, with its curved hickory shaft. 

These were the inanimate objects of the picture. 
Now for the animate. 

First, then, were our heroes, the three Boy Hunters 

— Basil, Lucien^ Francois Basil was engaged by 
the tent, driving in the pins ; Lucien was attending 
to the fire which he had just kindled ; while Fran9ois 
was making the feathers fly out of a brace of wild 
pigeons he had shot on the way. No two of .he 
three were dressed alike. Basil was all buckskin 

— except the cap, which was made from the skin of 


THE CAMP OF THE BOY HUNTERS. 

ft raccoon^ with the ringed tail hanging over hit 
shoulders like a drooping plume. He wore a hum 
ing shirt with fringed cape, handsomely ornamented 
with beads. A belt fastened it around his waist, 
from which was suspended his hunting knife and 
sheath, with a small holster, out of which peeped the 
shining but of a pistol. He wore deerskin leggings, 
fringed down the seams, and moccasons upon his 
feet. His dress was just that of a backwoods hunter, 
except that his cotton under garments looked finer 
and cleaner, and altogether his hunting shirt was 
more tastefully embroidered, than is common among 
professional hunters. 

Lucien’s dress was of a sky-blue color. It con- 
sisted of a half blouse, half hunting shirt, of strong 
cottonade, with trousers of the same material. He 
had laced buskins on his feet, and a broad-brimmed 
Panama hat on his head. Lucien’s dress was some- 
what more civilized in its appearance than that of 
his elder brother. Like him, though, he had a leather 
belt, with a sheath and knife on one side ; and, instead- 
of a pistol, a small tomahawk on the other. Not that 
Lucien had set out with the intention of tomahawking 
any body. No ; he carriec his little hatchet for 
cracking rocks, not skulls. Lucien’s was a geo- 
logical tomahawk. 

Fran9ois was still in roundabout jacket with trou 
sers. He wore leggings over his trousers, and moca 
sons upon his feet, with a cloth cap set jantily ovei 
his luxuriant curls. He, too, was belted with hunt* 
ing knife and sheath, and a very small oistol hung 
upon h’s left thigh. 

4 


38 


THE CAMP OF THE BOY HUNTERS. 


'Out near ths middle of the glade were three horsei 
picketed on lasso ropes, so that they might not inter 
fere with each other whilst browsing. They were 
very different in appearance. One was a large 
brown-black horse, — a half Arab, — evidently en- 
dowed with great strength and spirit. That was 
Basil’s horse, and deservedly a favorite. His name 
was “ Black Hawk,” — so called after the famous 
chief of the Sacs and Foxes, who was a friend of the 
old colonel, and who had once entertained the latter 
when on a visit to these Indians. The second horse 
was a very plain one, a bay, of the kind known as 
“ cob.” He was a modest, sober animal, with noth- 
ing either of the hunter or warrior in his looks ; but 
sleek withal, and in good condition, like a well-fed 
citizen. Hence his name, which was “ Le Bour 
geois.” Of course he was ridden by the quiet Lu- 
cien. The third horse might have been termed a 
pony — if size be considered — as he was by far the 
smallest of the three. He was a horse, however, 
both in shape and character, — one of that small but 
fiery breed taken by the Spanish conquerors to the 
new world, and now known throughout the western 
country as “ mustangs.” As I shall have reason to 
say more of these beautiful creatures by and by, 1 
shall only state here, that the one in question waa 
spotted like a pard, and answered to the name “ Le 
Chat,” (the cat,) — particularly when Franfois called 
liim, for he was Fran 9 ois’ horse. 

A little apart from the horses was another animal, 
of a dirty slate color, with some white marks along 
ihe back and sh oulders. That was a true-bred Mexican 


THE CAMP OF THE BOY HUNTERS. 


39 


mule, wiry and wicked as any of its race. It was ? 
she mule, and was called Jeanette. Jeanette was 
tethered beyond kicking distance of the horses ; for 
between her and the mustang there existed no friendly 
feeling; Jeanette was the owner of the odd-looking 
8C. idle — the pack. Jeanette’s duty was to carry the 
tent, the provisions, the implements, and litensils. 

But one other living object might be noticed in the 
glade — the dog “ Marengo.” From his size and 
color — which was tawny red — you might have mis- 
taken him for a panther — a cougar. His long black 
muzzle and broad hanging ears gave him quite a 
different appearance, however ; and told you that he 
was a hound. He was, in fact, a bloodhound, with 
the cross of a mastiff — a powerful animal. He was 
crouching near Fran 9 ois, watching for the offal of 
the birds. 

Now, young reader, you have before you a “ nighi 
Munp ” of the Boy Hunters. 


40 


A FOX-SQUIRREL IN A FIX 


CHAPTER VL 

A FOX-SQUIRREL IN A FIX 

F11AN501S soon finished dressing his pigeons, and 
plunged them into the boiling water. A piece of 
dried meat was added, and then some salt and 
pepper, drawn from the store-bag, for it was the 
intention of Franfois to make pigeon soup. Ho 
next proceeded to beat up a little flour with water 
in order to give consistency to the soup. 

“ What a pity,” said he, “ we have no vege- 
tables ! ” 

“ Hold ! cried Lucien, who overheard him. 

There appears to be a variety of green stuff in this 
neighborhood. Let me see what can be done.” 

So saying, Lucien walked about the glade with 
his eyes bent upon the ground. He seemed to find 
nothing among the grass and herbs that would do ; 
and presently he strayed off among the trees, towards 
the banks of a little stream that ran close by. In a 
few minutes, he was seen returning with both his 
hands full of vegetables. He made no remark, but 
flung them down before Franfois. There were two 
species — one that resembled a small turnip, and, 
in fact, was the Indian turnip, {jpsoralea esculenla^) 
while the other was the wild onion found in many 
asrts of America. 


A FOX SQUIRREL IN A FIX. 


41 


lla ! ” cried Fran9ois, who at once recognized 
diem, “ what luck ! pomme hlanche, and wild oniong 
loo, as I live ! Now I shall make a soup worth 
tasting.” 

And' he proceeded witn great glee to cut up the 
vegetables, and fling them into the steaming kettle. 

In a short while the meat and pigeons were boiled, 
and the soup was ready. The kettle was token from 
the crane, and the three brothers, seating themselves 
on the grass, filled their tin cups, and set to eating. 
They had brought a supply of hard bread to last for 
a few days. When that should give out, they would 
draw upon their bag of flour; and when this, too 
should be exhausted, it was their intention to go 
without bread altogether, as they had often done on 
like excursions before. 

While thus enjoying their pigeon soup and picking 
the bones of the plump birds, the attention of all 
three was suddenly arrested by a movement near 
me side of the glade. They had just caught a 
glimpse of something that looked like a flash of 
yellow light shooting up in a straight direction from 
the ground. 

All three guessed what it was — the lightning 
passage of a squirrel up the trunk of a tree ; and 
there was the animal itself, clinging fiat against the 
bark, having paused a moment — as is usual with 
squirrels — before making another rush upward. 

“ O,” cried Lucien, in a suppressed voice, “ it 
is a fox-squirrel, and such a beauty ! See ! it is 
marked like a tortoise-shell cat ! Papa would give 
twenty dollars for such a skin.” 

4 * 


12 A FOX-SQUIRREL IN A FIX. 

“ He shall have it for far less,” rejoined B'ran9ois 
stealing towards his gun. 

“ Stop, FiZ::5ois ! ” said Lucien. “ Let Basil trj 
it with his rifle — he is a surer shot than you.” 

“ Very well,” replied Fran9ois ; “ but if he shoula 
miss, it’s no harm for me to be ready.” 

Basil had already risen, and was silently making 
for the guns. On reaching them, he took the long 
rifle, and turned in the direction of the game. At 
the same moment Fran9ois armed himself with his 
double barrel. 

The tree up which the squirrel had run was what 
ic termed a “ dead-wood.” It was a decaying tulip 
tree, scathed by lightning or storm, and stood some 
what apart from the others, out in the open ground. 
There was little else standing but the naked trunk 
which rose like a column to the height of sixty feet. 
The branches had all been swept away by the wind, 
with one exception ; and this was a long limb that 
stretched diagonally upward from the top of the 
trunk. The limb, although crooked and forking in 
several places, was not very thick. It was withou 
twigs or leaves, being, of course 'ike the tree itself, 
dead. 

Whilst Basil and Fran 9 ois we^e preparing their 
guns, the squirrel had made a second rush to the top 
of this limb; where it sat itself down in a fork, and 
appeared to contemplate the setting sun. No better 
mark could have been desired for a shot, provided 
they cr^^dd get near enough ; and that they were 
likely to do, for the little animal did not appear to 
regard the presence either of them or their horses — 


A FOX-SQUIRREL IN A FIX. 


4'A 


111 us showing that it had never been hunted. With 
its bushy tail erect, and spread like a fan, it sat upon 
its haunches, appearing to enjoy the warm beams 
that rame from the west. 

The boys moved softly around the glade, Basil 
going foremost. When within range, as he thought, 
he raised his rifle, levelled it, and was about to pull 
trigger, when the squirrel, that up to this mome 
had not noticed him, gave a sudden start, dropped its 
tail, and ran down the limb as if terrified. It did 
not stop until it had reached the main trunk. There 
it halted, a foot or two from the head, and lay flat 
against the bark. 

What could have alarmed it ? Not the boys, for 
it had not minded them before ; moreo\ er, it still 
kept upon their side of the tree, offering as fair a 
mark as ever. Had it feared them, it would — as all 
squirrels do — have hidden from them behind the 
trunk. But no, it was not afraid of them ; for, as it 
lay horizontally along the bark, its head was turned 
upward, and showed, by a peculiar motion, that it 
dreaded some enemy from above. And this was 
the fact, for high up, and directly over the tree, a 
large bird of prey was seen circling in the air. 

“ Hold ! ” whispered Lucien, laying his hand upon 
Basil’s arm — “hold, brother! it is the red-tailed 
hawk. See, he is going to swoop down. Let us 
watc'jT. him.” 

Basil lowered his rifle, and all three stood waiting. 
A leafy branch was over their heads, so that the bird 
did not see them, or, intent upon striking his prey 
tfid not ean^ for their presence at the moment. 


44 


A FOX-SQtTIRREL IN A FIX. 


Lucien had scarcely spoken, when the hawk, liia 
had hitherto been sailing with his broad wings cx* 
panded, suddenly narrowed his tail, drew in his wings, 
and came down with a loud “ whish-sh-sh ! ” He 
dropped almost perpendicularly, grazing the squirrel 
80 closely, that all three looked for it in his talons 
as he flew off again. Not so, however. The squirrel 
had been upon his guard, and, as the hawk swooped 
down, had doubled around the tree with the quick- 
ness of a flash of lightning. By the guidance of his 
rudder-like tail, the hawk soon turned, and flew round 
to that side of the tree on which the squirrel had now 
settled. A few strokes of his powerful wings soon 
enabled him to reach the proper elevation ; and again 
he swooped downward at his intended victim. The 
iquirrel avoided him as before, and came back on 
the other side of the trunk. Again the hawk doubled 
rose, darted downward at his prey, missed it, and 
swept on. A fourth attempt met with like success 
and the bird once more flew back into the air, but 
still kept circling over the tree. 

“ It’s a wonder old foxy doesn’t take to another 
tree,” muttered Franpois ; “ one with branches enough 
to shelter him, or to his own tree, where his hole is. 
There he would be safe.” 

“ That’s exactly what he wishes to do,” replied 
Lucien. But see, his enemy is directly over him. 
There’s no tree near enough, and if he attempted 
to run along the open ground, the hawk would he 
down upon him like a shot. You saw how suddenly 
he dropped before.” 

This was, in fact, the situation in which the squir 


A FOX-SQUIRREL IN A FIX. 


4a 


rel was. It was evident he regarded the trees at 
some distance with a wistful and anxious look ; for^ 
although ho had succeeded so far in baffling his 
enemy, he still appeared to suffer from suspense 
and fear. 

As soon as the hawk had risen a dozen yards oi 
80 above the tree, he again commenced wheeling in 
circles, uttering a strange cry as he flew. It was not 
a scream, as is often heard with these birds, but a 
crv of different import, as if a call to some comrade. 
It was so, in fact, for in a moment it was answered 
from a distant part of the woods; and the next 
moment, another hawk — red-tailed like himself, but 
much larger — was seen soaring upwards. This 
was evidently his mate ; for the female of these birds 
is always much larger than the males. The two 
soon came together, and wheeled above the tree, 
crossing each other’s orbit, and looking downward. 
The squirrel now appeared doubly terrified, for he 
well knew their intent. He began to run around the 
trunk, looking outward at intervals, as though he in- 
tended to leap off and take to the thick woods. 

The hawks did not allow him long time to make 
up his mind. The smaller one swooped first, but 
missed the squirrel as before, driving him around the 
trunk. There the frightened creature had scarcely 
halted, when the great hen-hawk came at him with 
a whistling rush, and sent him back to the other side. 
The male bird had by this time turned, and now darted 
with such suddenness and precision, that the squirrel, 
unable to pass round the tree again, spnmg off into 
the air. Guided by his broad tail, the hawk followed, 


46 


A. FOX-SQUIRREL IN A FIX. 


Rnd before the squirrel could reach the ground, the 
bird was seen to strike. Then, with a loud scream 
he rose into the air, with the squirrel struggling in 
his talons. 

His triumph was a short one. The crack of a 
shot gun was heard from behind, and both hawk and 
squirrel fell heavily to the earth. Another crack 
followed almost instantaneously, and his mate, the 
great hen-hawk, came tumbling down, with a broken 
wing, and fluttered over the grass, screaming like 1 
cat. She was soon silenced by a stroke from the 
but of Franpois’ gun, — both barrels of which ^ere 
now empty, — for it was Franpois that had dr -e the 
business for the red-tails. 

What was most singular of all, the squi.»el was 
not killed either by the shot or the fall. On the 
contrary, as Lucien was deliberately stooping to pick 
it up, — congratulating himself all the while upon his 
prize, — it suddenly made a spring, shook itself clear 
of the claws of the dead hawk, and, streaking off 
into the woods, ran up a tall tree. All three followed 
ns fast as they could run ; but on reaching the tree — 
an oak five feet thick — they saw, to their morti- 
fication, the squirrel’s hole about fifty feet from the 
grou. id, which, of course, brought that squirre huni 
tc its terminatioii. 


FRANfOIS GETS AN UGLY FALL 




CHAPTER VII. 

FRAN9OIS GETS AN UGLY FALL 


The next encampment of our hunters wf s upon 
the Bajou Crocodile. This, like all the bayous of 
Louisiana, is a sluggish stream, and here and there 
expands itself into large ponds or lakes. It is called 
Bayou Crocodile from the great number of alligators 
that infest its waters, though in this respect it differs 
but little from the other rivers of Louisiana. 

The spot chosen for the camp was an open space 
upon the bank, at a point where the bayou widened 
into a small lake. The situation commanded a view 
of the shores of this lake all round, and a singular 
view that was. Giant trees rose over the water — 
live oaks and cypresses — and from their spreading 
branches the Spanish moss hung trailing down like 
long streamers of silver thread. This gave the 
upper part of the woods a somewhat hoary appear- 
ance, and would have rendered the scene rather a 
melancholy one, had it not been for the more brilliant 
foliage that relieved it. Here and there a green 
magnolia glistened in the sun, with its broad, white 
flowers, each of them as large as a dining plate. 
Underneath grew the thick cane, {arundo gigantea,) 
its tall, pale-green reeds standing parallel to each 
other, and ending in lance-shaped blades, like stalks 


48 FRANCOIS GETS AN UGLY FALL. 

of giant wheat before its ears have shot. Over this 
again, rose the gray limbs of the tupeloo tree, {iiyssa 
aquatica,) with light leaves and thin foliage. The 
beautiful palmetto (chamcBi ops) lifted its fanlike 
branches, as if to screen the earth from the hot tun 
that poured down upon it ; and here and there its 
singular shapes were shadowed in the water. From 
tree to tree huge parasites, stretched like cables — • 
vines, and lianas, and various species of convolvulus. 
Some of these were covered with thick foliage, while 
others exhibited a surface of splendid flowers. The 
scarlet cups of the trumpet vine, (bignonia,) the white 
starlike blossoms of the cypress creeper, and the 
pink flowers of the wild althea or cotton rose (hibiscus 
grandijlora^) all blended their colors, inviting the 
large painted butterflies and mby-throated humming- 
birds that played among their silken corollas. As 
if in contrast with these bright spots in the landscape, 
there were others that looked dark and gloomy. 
You could see through long vistas in the forest, 
where the trees grew out of green, slimy water. 
Here there was no underwood, either of cane or 
palmettoes. The black trunks of the cypresses rose 
branchless for nearly a hundred feet, and from their 
spreading limbs drooped the gray weeping moss. 
Huge “ knees ” could be distinguished, shooting up 
like cones or trees that had been broken off*, leaving 
their broken trunks in the ground. Sometimes a 
huge creeper, a foot or more in diameter, stretched 
across these gloomy aisles, as though a monster 
serpent were pissing from tree to tree. 

The lake was alive with alligators. These could 
be seen basking along the low banks, or crawling 


FRANCOIS GETS AN UGLY FALL. 


4 ^ 


away into the dark and shadowy swamp. Som« 
were floating gently on the surface of the stream, 
their long crests and notched backs protruding abovo 
the water. When not in motion, these nideous crea 
tures resembled dead logs of wood ; and most of 
them were lying quiet — partly from their natura. 
disinclination to move about, and partly waiting for 
their prey. Those that basked upon the banks held 
fhcir jaws expanded, that at intervals were heard to 
close with a loud snap. These were amusing them- 
selves by catching the flies, that, attracted by the 
musky odor, flew around their hideous jaws, and lit 
upon their slimy tongues. Some were fishing in the 
stream, and at intervals the stroke of their tails upon 
the water could be heard at the distance of half a 
mile or more. Their croaking resounded through 
the woods somewhat like the noise made by bull 
frogs, but loud and terrible as the bellowing of bulls. 
A horrid appearance they presented ; but our hunters 
were accustomed to the sight, and had no fear of 
these animals. 

There were other objects around the lake more 
pleasing to contemplate. On a distant point stood 
a troop of flamingoes, drawn up in order like a com- 
pany of soldiers, their scarlet plumage shining in the 
Bun. Near them was a flock of whooping cranes, — 
each as tall as a full-grown man, — at intervals utter- 
ing their loud trumpet notes. The great egret, too 
was there, with its snowy plumage and orange bill ; 
the delicately-formed Louisiana heron, with drove* 
of sand-hill cranes, appearing in the distance like 
flocks of white sheep 


60 FRAN90IS GETS AN TTGI.Y FALL. 

Pelicans, with their pouched throats and seytt/e 
ike bills, stood in melancholy attitudes, and beside 
them were the white and scarlet ibis, and ihe purple 
gallinule. Roseate spoonbills waded through the 
shallows, striking their odd-shaped beaks at the crabs 
and crayfish ; and upon projecting limbs of trees 
perjhed the black darter, his long snakelike neck 
stretchea eagerly over the v/ater. In the air a flock 
of buzzard vultures were wheeling lazily about, and 
a pair of osprays hung over the lake, now and then 
swooping down upon their finny prey. 

Such was the scene around the camp of the boy 
hunters, a scene often to be witnessed among the wil- 
derness swamps of Louisiana. 

The tent was set near the bank of the bayou, 
where the ground was dry and high. The spot was 
open, — only a few scattered palmettoes growing over 
it, — and the animals were picketed upon the grass 
near by. There was venison for supper. Basil’s 
unerring rifle had brought down a doe, just as they 
were abou^ to halt ; and Basil was an accomplished 
butcher of such-like game. The doe was soon 
skinned, and the choice pieces cut out — enough to 
serve for supper and breakfast upon the following 
morning. The haunches were hung on a limb, to 
be carried along, as the next day’s hunt might not 
turn out so successful. There was still enough left 
to make a splendid supper for Marengo, and that 
hungry animal took full advantage of the occasion. 
He knew that in an excursion like the present it was 
not every day that a fat doe turned up ; or when it 
did, that such a portion of its carcass was likely ta 
tall to his share. 


FBANgOIS GETS AN UGLY FALL. 51 

It svas still early, wanting full two hours of sunset 
»/hen the hunters finished their supper — dinner it 
should rather he called — as, with the exception of 
some dry mouthfuls at their noon halt, they had not 
eaten since breakfast. 

When the meal was over, Basil again looked to 
repairing the harness of the mule, that had got out 
of order on the march, while Lucien drew out his 
note book and pencil, and, sitting down upon a uuf- 
faiu robe, commenced entering his observations foi 
the day. Franfois, having no employment, resolved 
upon creeping around the edge of the bayou, to 
have a shot at the flamingoes, if he should be lucky 
enough to get near them This he knew would be 
no easy matter ; but he had made up his mind to try 
it, and, having told his brothers of his intention, he 
shouldered his gun and went off. 

He was soon out of sight, having passed into some 
thick timber that grew along the edge of the water, 
through which there was a plain trail made by deer 
and other wild animals. He kept along this trail, 
sheltering himself behind the trees, so that the flamin- 
goes, that were several hundred yards farther down 
the bayou, might not see him as he approached. 

He had not been out of sight more than five 
minutes, when Basil and Lucien were startled by the 
report of a gun, and then another following quickly 
after. They knew it was Franpois’ fowling-piece; 
but what had he fired at .? It could not have been 
the flamingoes, as he had not had time to get within 
range of them. Besides, the birds, where they had 
been sitting on the far shore, were visible from the 


62 FEAN90IS GETS AN UGLY FALL. 

camp ; and all of them, affrighted by the reports 
were now seen winging their way over the tops of 
the trees. No, it could not have been at the fla- 
mingoes Fran9ois had fired. What then ? This waa 
Uie question which Basil and Lucien put to each 
other not without some feelings of anxiety. Per- 
haps, thought they, Fran9ois has sprung a deer, 
or tra.nipled up a flock of turkeys. So the brother 
were fain to conjecture ; but their conjectures were 
soon ended by Fran9ois himself, who was heard 
far off through the woods, shouting in a fearful 
manner. 

Basil and Lucien seized their rifles, and ran for- 
ward to find him ; but before they could reach the 
piece of timber, Fran9ois was seen coming up the 
trail between the trees, and running as if for his life ^ 
In front of him an object appeared, like a dead log, 
lying directly across the path. It could not be that, 
for it was in motion. It was a living animal — an 
alligator ! 

It was one, too, of the largest dimensions — nearly 
twei^ty feet in length, and lay right across the path. 
Basil and Lucien saw it the moment they got oppo- 
site the opening. They saw, too, it was not that 
which was putting Fran9ois to his speed, for he was 
running directly upon it. Something behind him 
occupied all his thoughts, and he did not see the alli- 
gator at all ; for, although his brothers shouted to 
warn him, he ran on ; and, stumbling over the hide- 
ous body of the reptile, fell flat upon his face, hia 
gun pitching forward out of his hands as he fell. He 
was not hurt, however, but, scrambling tc his feel 


rRAN90IS GETS AN UGLY FALL. f’ ; 

ngaiii, continued his race, shouting, as he emerged 
half bitjathless out of the bushes, “ A bear ! a bear ! ’* 

Basil and Lucien, making ready their pieces, 
looked along the trail. There, sure enough, was a 
bear coming up as fast as he could gallop. It wa« 
at him Frau9ois had fired. The small shot had only 
served to irritate him ; and, seeing such a puny an- 
tagonist as Fran9ois, he had given chase. 

At first they all thought of taking to their heels, 
and seeking safety by mounting their horses ; but 
the bear had got too near, and one or other might be 
caught before they could reach the horses and loose 
them. They resolved, therefore, to make a stand. 
Basil, who had been 'at the killing of a black bear 
before now, was not so much afraid of the encounter ; 
so he and Lucien held their rifles in readiness to give 
Bruin a warm reception. 

The latter came lumbering on, until he had reached 
the place where the alligator lay. The reptile had 
turned itself half round, and was now standing on 
its short legs, lengthwise along the path, puffing like 
a pair of blacksmith’s bellows. The bear, intent 
upon his pursuit of Fran9ois, did not see it until he 
had stumbled right upon its body ; and then, uttering 
a loud snort, he leaped to one side. This gave the 
alligator the very opportunity he would have sought ; 
and the next moment his powerful tail was lashed 
with such force against the bear, that the ribs of the 
latter were heard to crack under the blow. 

The bear — who would otherwise have left the alli- 
gator to himself — became so infuriated at this unpro* 
vokei assault, that he turned and sprang upon hii 
5 * 


54 FRAN90IS GETS AN XJGLY FALL. 

new enemy, seizing him round the body in a firm 
hug. Both struggled over the ground, the one growl* 
ing and snorting, while the other uttered a sound like 
the routing of a bull. 

How long the conflict would have lasted, ana 
which would have proved victor had they been left to 
themselves, is not known ; for Basil and Lucien 
both fired, wounding the bear. This caused him to 
relax his hug, and he now seemed anxious to get off ; 
but the reptile had seized one of his feet in his pow- 
erful jaws, and thus held him fast, all the while crawl- 
ing and dragging him down to the water. The bear 
was evidently aware of the intention of his antago- 
nist, and uttered loud and pitiful moanings, at times 
screaming like a hog under the knife of the butcher. 
It was all to no purpose. His unrelenting enemy 
gained the bank ; and dragging him along, plunged 
into the deep water. Both went down together, com- 
pletely disappearing from the eyes of the specta- 
tors; and although the boys watched for nearly an 
hour, neither beast nor reptile was seen to rise again to 
the surface. The bear, no doubt, had been drowned 
at once, and the alligator, after having suffocated 
him, had hidden his carcass in the mud, or dragged 
it along the bottom to some other part of tie Wyon 
there to make a meal of it at his leisure. 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


5ft 


CHAPTER Vm. 

ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


The boys now returned to their tent, impiessed with 
2iirious feelings by the scene they had just witnessed. 
They lay down upon the grass, and entered into a 
conversation, of which bears and alligators formed 
the subjects. The latter, however, with their singular 
and revolting habits, came in for the greater share 
of their talk. Many odd stories in relation to them 
were known to all, even to the little Fran 9 ois ; and 
Basil, being an old hunter among the swamps and 
bayous, was acquainted with many of the habits of 
these animals. But Basil was not much of an ob- 
server; and he had only noticed such peculiarities 
as, from time to time, were forced upon his attention 
by the incidents of the chase. Lucien, however, had 
more closely observed their habits, and had also 
studied them from books. He was, therefore, well 
acquainted with all that is known to the na uralist 
concerning these animals ; and, at the request of his 
brothers, he consented to while away the twilight 
hours, by imparting to them such information about 
them as he himself possessed. 

“ The alligator,” began he, “ belongs to the order 
T'luria^ or lizards. This order is again divided into 
several families, one of which is termed rrocodilida, 


66 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


or crocodiles ; and the family of crocodiles is sub* 
divided into three genera, each of which has several 
species.” 

“ How many species in all ? ” demanded Basil. 

“ There are not more than a dozen varieties of 
the whole crocodile family — at least, there are not 
more known to naturalists.” 

“ Then I was thinking why there should be aF. 
this division and subdivision into orders, families 
genera, and species, for a dozen varieties of the 
same animal, and these all so like each other in 
shape and habits. Are they not so ” 

“ They are,” answered Lucien, “ very similar in 
their characteristics.” 

“ Then, why so much classing of them ? It ap- 
pears to me to be quite useless.” 

“ The object of this classing is to make the study 
of their natural history more easy and sitnple. But 
you are right, brother, in the present case ; it appears 
quite useless, and only renders the thing more com- 
plex and obscure. Where there are many varieties 
or species of a family or order of animals, and where 
these species differ widely from each other in ap- 
pearance and habits, '.hen such minute classifications 
become necessary to assist one’s memory ; but I say , 
again, brother, you are quite right as to the present 
case. There is no need for the numerous divisions 
and subdivisions which have been made of the croco. 
dile family.” 

“ Who made them, then > ” asked Fran9ois. 

“ Who ! ” exclaimed Lucien, with some warmth 
“ who but closet naturalists, old mummy-hun^^rs of 
museums • Bab • h makee one ” 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


S’? 

As Lucien said this, his usually mild countenance 
exhibited an expression of mingled indignation and 
contempt. 

“ What is there in it to make one angry ? ” in- 
quired Basil, looking up at his brother with some 
astonishment. 

“ Why, to think,” answered Lucien, “ that these 
same closet naturalists should have built themselve? 
up great names by sitting in their easy chairs meas. 
unng, and adding up, and classing into dry cata- 
logues, objects which they knew very little about , 
and that little they obtained from the observations of 
others — true naturalists — men like the great Wilson 
— men who toiled, and travelled, and exposed them- 
selves to countless dangers and fatigues for tlie pur- 
pose of collecting and observing ; and then for these 
men to have the fruits of their labors filched from 
them, and descanted upon in dry arithmetical terms, 
by these same catalogue makers. Bah ! ” 

“ Stay, brother ; Wilson was not robbed of the 
fruits of his labors ! He became famous.” 

“Yes, and he died from the struggles and hard- 
ships that made him so. It reminds me of the fabled 
song of the swan, brother. He told his beautiful 
tale, and died. Ah ! poor Wilson, he was a tru6 
naturalist.” 

“ His name will live forever.” 

“ Ay, that it will, when many of the philosophic 
naturalists, now so much talked of, shall be forgotten, 
or only remembered to have their quaint theories 
laughed at, and their fabulous descriptions turned 
into ridicule. Fortunately for Wilsor, he was toa 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


5fi 

poor and too humble to attract their patronage until 
his book was published. Fortunately for him he 
knew no great Linnieus or Count Buffon, else the vast 
rtores which he had been at so much pains to collect 
would have been given to the world under another 
name. Look at Bartram.” 

“ Bartrain ! ” exclaimed Fran9ois ; “ why, I never 
heard the name, Luce.” 

“ Nor I,” added Basil. 

“ There it is, you see. Few know his name ; and 
yet this same John Bartram, a farmer of Pennsyl- 
vania, who lived a hundred years ago, did more to 
spread, not only a knowledge of American plants, but 
the plants themselves, than any one who has lived 
since. Most of the great gardens of England — Kew 
imong the rest — are indebted to this indefatigable 
botanist for their American flora; and there were 
few of the naturalists of that time — Linnaeus not 
excepted — that were not largely indebted to him for 
their facts and their fame. They took his plants 
and specimens — collected by arduous, toilsome, and 
perilous journeyings — they put names to them — 
noble and kingly names — for king sycophants most 
of them were, these same naturalists — they described 
them, as they call it — such descriptions, indeed ! and 
then adopted them as their own discoveries. And 
what did they give John Bartram in return for all his 
trouble } Why, the English king gave him fifty 
pounds to enable him to travel over thousands of 
miles of wilderness in search of rare plants, many of 
which, on reaching England, were worth hundreds of 
;>ounds each ! This was all the poor botanist had foi 


ABOUT ALI ^GATORS. 


i >9 


^nno^ing the gardens of Kew, and sending over the 
hrst magnolias and tulip trees that ever blossomed 
in England ! What did the scientific naturalists do 
for him ? They stole his histories and descriptions 
BHd published them under their own names. Now, 
brothers, what think you of it ? Is it not enough to 
spoil one’s temper when one reflects upon such in- 
justice ? ” 

Both Basil and Fran9ois signified their assent. 

“ It is to such men as Hearne, and Bartram, and 
Wilson, that we are indebted for all we know of nat- 
ural history — at least, all that is worth knowing. 
What to us is the dry knowledge of scienti^c classifi- 
cations For my part, I believe that the authors of 
them have obscured rather than simplified the knowl- 
edge of natural history. Take an example. There 
is one before our eyes. You see those long stream- 
ers hanging down from the live oaks ? ” 

“ Yes, yes,” replied Fran9ois, “the Spanish moss.” 
“ Yes, Spanish moss, as we call it here, or old^ 
man's-heard moss, as they name it in other parts. 
It is no moss, however, but a regular flowering plant, 
although a strange one. Now, according to these 
philosophic naturalists, that long, stringy, silvery 
creeper, that looks very like an old man’s beard, is 
of the same family of plants as the pineapple ! ” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” roared Fran9ois ; “ Spanish moss 
the same as a pineapple plant; why, they are no 
more like than my hat is to the steeple of a chuich.” 

“ They are unlike,” continued Lucien, “ in every 
respect — in appearance, in properties, and uses , 
and yet, were you to consult the dry books of tb® 


ABOUT ALLIGATOKS. 


Closet naturalists., you would learn that this Spanish 
moss (tUlandsia) was of a certain family of planes, 
and a few particulars of that sort, and that is all you 
would learn about it. Now, what is the value of 
such a knowledge ? What is it to compare with a 
knowledge of the appearance, the structure, and 
character of the plant — of its properties and the ends 
for which nature designed it — of its uses to the birds 
and beasts around — of its uses to man — how it 
makes his mattress to sleep on, stuffs his sofas, and 
saddles, and chairs, equal to the best horse hair, and 
would even feed his horse in case of a pinch ? In 
my opinion these are the facts worth knowing ; and 
who are the men who publish such facts to the 
world ? Not your closet naturalists, I fancy.” 

“ True, very true, brother ; but let us not vex 
ourselves about such things ; go on, and tell us what 
you know of the crocodiles.” 

“ Well, then,” said Lucien, returning to his natu- 
ral tone and manner, “ as I have already said, the 
crocodiles are divided into three genera — crocodiles ^ 
gavials^ and alligators. It is Baron Cuvier who haj« 
made this distinction ; and he rests it more upon the 
shape of the head and the set of the teeth, than upon 
any real difference in the appearance or habits of 
these animals. The crocodiles have long, pointed, 
narrow snouts, and a large tooth in each side of the 
lower jaw, which, when the mouth shuts, passes 
into a groove in the upper. ‘ These are the true 
crocodiles,’ says M. Cuvier. The gavials have also 
long, pointed, narrow, roundish snouts, but their teeth 
are nearly equal sized, and even. The al/igators. 


ABOUT a LLK ATOR5 


b'l 

on the contrary, have broad, pike-shaped noses, with 
teeth very unequal, and one large one on each side 
of the lower jaw, that, when the mouth shuts, passes, 
not into a groove, as with the crocodile, but into a 
hole or socket in the upper jaw. These are M. 
Cuvier’s distinctions ; which he takes a world of 
pains to point out and prove. He might, in my 
opinion, have spared himself the trouble, as there are 
so few varieties of the animal in existence, that they 
might have been treated of with greater simplicity as 
so many species of the genus ‘ crocodile.’ 

“ Of the true crocodiles there are five species 
known. Four of these are found in the rivers of 
Africa, while the fifth is an inhabitant of the West 
Indies and South America. The gavial is found in 
Asia, particularly in the Ganges and other Indian 
rivers, and is the crocodile of those parts. The alli- 
gator belongs to America, where it is distributed ex- 
tensively both in North and South America. In the 
Spanish parts it is called ‘ caiman,’ and there are 
lWO species well known, viz., the spectacled caiman 
of Guiana, and the alligator of the Mississippi. No 
doubt, when the great rivers of South America have 
been properly explored, it will come *o light thal 
there are other varieties than these. . have heard 
of a species that inhabits the Lake Valencia in Vene- 
zuela, and which differs from both the American 
species mentioned. It is smaller than either, and is 
much sought after, by the Indians, for its flesh, which 
these people eat, and of which they are particularly 
fond. It is probable, too, that new species of croco 
6 


62 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


diles may yet be found in Africa and the islands if 
the Indian Ocean. 

“ Now, I think it is a well-ascertained fact that 
all these varieties of the crocodile family have pretty 
much the same habits, differing only where such 
difference might be expected by reason of climate, 
food, or other circumstances. What I shall tell you 
of the alligator, then, will apply in a general way 
to all his scaly cousins. You know his color — 
dusky-brown above, and dirty yellowish-white under- 
neath. You know that he is covered all over with 
scales, and you see that on his back these scales rise 
into protuberances like little pyramids, and that a 
row of them along the upper edge of his tail gives 
it a notched, saw-like appearance. You notice that 
the tail is flattened vertically, and not like the tail of 
the beaver, which is compressed horizontally. You 
observe that the legs are short, and very muscular — 
that there are five toes on the fore feet, slightly 
webbed or palmated, and four on the hind feet, much 
onger and much more webbed. You notice that his 
head is somewhat like that of a pike, that the nostrils 
are near the end of the snout, the eyes prominent, 
and the opening of the ears just behind them. His 
eyes have dark pupils, with a lemon-colored iris, 
and the pupils are not round, as in the eye of a man, 
but of an oval shape, something like those of a goat. 

“ All these things you may observe by looking at 
an alligator. But there are some things about the 
structure of the animal which are peculiar, and which 
may not strike you so readily. You observe that his 
laws open far back, even beyond the ears, where 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


63 


rfiey are hinged or articulated into each other.. Now, 
this is a peculiar formation, and the effect Is, that 
when the alligator opens his mouth, his neck be* 
comes somewhat bent upwards, giving him the ap- 
pearance of having moved the upper instead of the 
under jaw.” 

“ Why, I have often heard that that was so,” re 
marked Francois. 

“ Many have thought so, and said so, since the 
time of Herodotus, who first propagated this absurd 
idea. It is not the fact, however. It is the lower 
jaw that moves, as in other vertebrated animals ; but 
the appearance I have described leads to the mistake 
that has been made by careless observers. There 
is another point worth speaking of. The opening of 
the alligator’s ear is guarded by a pair of lips, which 
he closes the moment he goes under water. His 
nostrils, too, are protected by valves, which he can 
also close at will. There is also a peculiarity about 
his vertebrae. These are so jointed to each other 
that he cannot turn without describing a circle with 
nls body. He can move his head but slightly to one 
side or the other; and this is a fortunate circum- 
stance, if not for him, at least for his enemies. 
Were he able to turn short round, or twist himself 
about, as serpents do, he would be a most dangerous 
creature to encounter. As it is, the great length of 
his body, combined with the shortness of his legs, and 
the impossibility of his getting round quickly, renders 
him an easy antagonist on land, provided you keep 
out of reach of his great jaws, and beyond the sweep 
of his powerful tail. This last is his true weapon of 


64 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


offence or defence; and as it is not restrained 
any vertebroe, he can use it with such effect as th 
knock tlie breath out of a man with one single flap. 
Many of the habits of the alligator are known to you — 
how the female lays eggs as big as those of a goose, 
and buries them in the sand, where they are hatched 
by the heat of the sun. Sometimes she cannot find 
a sand bank to suit her purpose. She then raises a 
circular platform of mud mixed with grass and sticks. 
Upon this she deposits a layer of eggs, and covers 
them over with several inches of mud and grass. 
She then lays a fresh tier of eggs, covering these 
also with mud, and so on until she has laid her whole 
hatching, which often amounts to nearly two hundred 
eggs, of a dirty greenish-white color. In the end 
she covers all up with mud, plastering it with her tail 
until it assumes the appearance of a mud oven or 
beaver house. All this pains she takes to protect 
her eggs from the raccoons and turtles, as well as 
vultures and other birds, that are very fond of them. 
She haunts near the spot while the eggs are hatch- 
ing, so as to keep off these enemies. When the 
young are out, her first care is to get them to the 
water, out of the way of such dangers. This seems 
to be their first instinct, too ; for no sooner are they 
free from the shell than they are seen scuttling off 
in that direction, or following their mother, many of 
them having climbed upon her back and shoulders.” 

“ But, brother,” interrupted Fran9ois, “ is it true 
that the old males eat their own young ? ” 

“ Horrible though it be, it is perfectly true, Fran- 
pois I myself have seen it.” 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


65 


“ And 1,” said Basil, “ several times.” 

“ The first care of the mother is to get them to the 
♦vater, where she can better conceal them from their 
unnatural parent ; but, notwithstanding all her pre- 
cautions, many of them fall victims, both to the old 
alligators, and the larger tortoises and birds. As 
soon as the young ones have learned a little sense,— - 
if I may so speak, — they elude their monster fathers 
dnd uncles, as they are nimbler in their movements, 
and can keep out of reach of their great jaws and 
tails. I have often seen the small alligators riding 
upon the backs of the larger ones, knowing that the 
latter could not reach them in that situation.” 

They appear to eat any thing that conies in their 
way,” remarked Fran9ois. 

“ They are not very particular as to that. Fish 
is their favorite food, I believe, but they will eat any 
land animal they can kill ; and it is believed they 
prefer it in a state of putrefaction. That is a doubt- 
ful point. They have been known to kill large ani- 
mals in the water, and leave them at the bottom for 
several days ; but this may have happened because 
they were not hungiy at the time, and were merely 
keeping them until they should get an appetite. The 
process of digestion with them, as with all reptiles, is 
very slow ; hence they do not require such quantities 
of food as the warm-blooded animals — mamn.als 
and birds. For instance, they bury themselves in 
the mud, and lie asleep during the whole winter 
without any food.” 

“ Yoi say fish ie their favorite food, Luce,” said 
Basil , * now, I think they are fonder of dogs than 

C * E 


6b 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


any thing else. I have often known them cO come 
where they had heard the yelping of a dog, as if foi 
the purpose of devouring it. I have seen one seize a 
large dog that was swimming across the Bayou Boeuf, 
and drag him under, as quick as a trout would have 
taken a fly. The dog was never seen again.” 

“ It is very true,” replied Lucien, “ that they will 
eat dogs, as they will any other animals ; but theif 
being particularly fond of them is a point about 
which naturalists differ. It is true they will approach 
the spot where they hear the yelping of a dog ; but 
some say that this is because it so much resembles 
the whining of their own young, and that it is these 
they are in search of.” 

“ But I have seen both the males and females 
make towards the dog.” 

“ Just so. The males went to devour the young, 
as they thought, and the females followed to protect 
them. Great battles are often fought between the 
males and females on this account.” 

“ But how is it. Luce,” inquired Fran 9 ois, “ how 
is it they can catch fish that appear so much swifter 
than themselves ? ” 

“ Very few kinds of fish are swifter. The alli- 
gator, by means of his webbed feet, and particularly 
his flat tail, which \z\s on the principle of a stern oar 
to a boat, and a rudder as well, can pass through 
the water as swiftly as most of the finny tribe. It ia 
not by hunting it down, however, but by stratagem 
that the alligator secures a fish for his maw.” 

“ By what stratagem ? ” 

“ You have often noticed them floating on th« 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


67 


tfurfaco of the water, bent into a sort of semicircular 
siiape, and without moving either body or limb.” 

“ Yes — yes ; I have noticed it many a time.” 

“ Well, if you could have looked under the water 
then, you would have seen a fish somewhere upon 
the convex side of the semicircle. The fish w^uld 
be at rest ; no doubt watching the surface fci hii 
own prey — such flies or beetles as might come along. 
Thus occupied, he does not heed the great d.isky 
mass that is ghding slowly towards him, and which 
presents no threatening appearance ; for the head 
of the alligator is at this time turned away from hia 
intended victim. Although apparently asleep, the 
alligator knows what he is about well enough. He 
floats silently on, until he has got the fish within 
sweep of his great tail, that is all the while bent like 
a bow ; and then, taking sure aim, he strikes the un • 
conscious prey a ‘ slap ’ that kills it at once — some- 
times throwing it directly into his jaws, and sometimes 
flinging it several feet out of the water ! 

“ When on land, the alligator strikes his prey in a 
similar manner. As he gives the blow, his head 
turns so as to meet the tail half way — the whole 
body thus forming a semicircle. Should the prey 
not be killed by the blow of the tail, it is flung right 
into the jaws of the monster, where it is sure to be 
despatched in a trice.” 

“ But, brother,” inquired Basil, “ why do the alii 
gators eat stones and such substances ? I have seen 
one that was opened, and his stomach was nearly 
quarter full of stones as big as my fist, and pieces 
of sticks and glass. They looked as if they had 


68 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


been there a long time, for the sharp edges were 
worn off. This 1 never could understand.” 

“ No wonder, for wiser naturalists than we do not 
know the reason of this. Some think it is upon the 
same principle, and for the same reason, that birds 
and other creatures swallow gravel and earth — -to 
assist the process of digestion. Others have affirmed 
that it is for the purpose of distending the stomach, 
so as to enable the reptile to bear his long fast while 
torpid during the winter. This latter reason I look 
upon as very absurd, and worthy only of the fabu- 
lous Buffon. For my part, I believe that the rubbish 
usually found in the alligator’s stomach is collected 
there by accident, — swallowed, from time to time, 
by mistake, or along with his prey ; for his organs 
of taste are far from being delicate, and he will de- 
vour any thing that is flung into the water, even a 
glass bottle. These substances, of course, remain 
n his stomach, — perhaps accumulating there during 
his whole lifetime, — and as, like most reptiles, his 
stomach is very strong, they do him little, if any, 
injury. We must not judge of an alligator’s stomach 
as we would that of a human being ; nor, indeed, of 
any of his organs. If our brain is seriously injured, 
we die ; but an alligator’s brain may be altogether 
removed, even in the most violent manner, and the 
animal will crawl off and live for days after. In- 
stances have been known of alligators having had 
their brains blown ou: by a shot, and yet for hours 
after they would give battle to any one who might 
approach them. Their brain, like that of all rep. 
tiles, is exceedingly small, — proving them lower 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


69 


in the scale of intelligence than birds and mam- 
mals.” 

“ But, Lucien, you tell us that the habits of the 
crocodile family are alike, or nearly so : how comes 
it that the African crocodiles are so much more fierce, 
as we have heard, often attacking and devouring the 
natives of Senegal and the Upper Nile ^ Our alle- 
gators are not so. It is true they sometimes bite the 
legs of our negroes ; and we have heard also of 
some boys who have been killed by them ; but this 
was when, through negligence, they came in the 
animals’ way. They do not attack one if they are 
left alone. We, for instance, are not a bit afraid to 
approach them with only a stick in our hands.” 

“ That is, because we feel certain they are too 
clumsy on land to get at us, as we can easily leap 
out of the reach of their tails and jaws. How would 
you like to swim across that bayou at this moment ^ 
I dare say you would not venture it.” 

“ Not a bit of it — you are right there.” 

“ And if you did, you would, in all probability, be 
attacked before you could reach the opposite shore. 
But our alligators are not now what they were a 
hundred years ago. We know, from the best au- 
thority, that they were then much more fierce and 
dangerous, and often attacked men without provoca- 
tion. They have grown afraid of because they 
know that we are dangerous to them ; and they can 
easily distinguish our upright form and shape from 
those of other animals. Look how they have been 
hunted by men during the mania for alligator leather, 
and see how many of them are still killed for their 


70 


ABOUT ALLIGATORS. 


oil and tails. It is quite natural, then, they should 
fear us ; and you may notice they are much more 
timid near the plantations and settlements than in the 
wilder parts. . have no doubt — and I have so hearo 
it — that there are places in the great swamps where 
they are still dangerous to approach. Those who 
assert that the African cr^odiles are more fierce, do 
not draw their conclusions from facts. The caimans 
of South America — and these are alligators — are 
quite as fierce as the crocodiles. I have read many 
accounts of their attacking the natives of Guiana and 
Brazil, and devouring them, too. Much of this is 
fabulous, no doubt ; but there are some stories of the 
kind well authenticated, and I have heard one which 
I am certain is true. I shall relate it, if you desire, 
though it is a very horrible and very melancholy tale, 
and I could well wish it had not been true.” 

“ O, tell it — tell it us,” cried Fran9ois. “ We can 
bear the narrative ; neither Basil nor I have weak 
nerves. Have we, Basil ? ” 

“ No,” replied Basil. “ I guess we can stand it, 
Frank. Go on, Luce.” 

“ Very well, then,” said Lucien, “ I shall give it, 
as it is not long, and is t'lerefore not likely t« 
weary you.” 


THE INDIAN MOlHER AND .-^AIMAN. 


71 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE INDIAN MOTHER AND CAIMAN. 

There is, perhaps, no part of America where 
the alligators grow to a greater size, and are more 
fierce in their nature, than upon the Magdalena, and 
other great rivers that run into it. These rivers flow 
through a low country within the tropics ; their cli- 
mate is of the hottest kind, and consequently most 
suitable to the development of the great reptiles. 
The indolent character of the natives, too, — half 
Indian, half Spanish, — prevents them from attacking 
and destroying these creatures with that energy that 
is exhibited by the inhabitants of our own country. 
The consequence is, that the animals, in their turn, 
are less afraid of man, and often make him their 
prey. The alligators of the Magdalena — or ‘cai- 
mans,’ as they are there called — frequently destroy 
natives, who, by any unlucky accident, may have 
fallen into the waters frequented by them. Not un- 
frequently the boatmen {hogadores) who navigate the 
River Magdalena in their logas^ or flat boats, drop 
overboard, and become the prey of the caimans, as 
sailors on the ocean do of sharks. These boatmen 
sometimes carry rifles, for the purpose of shooting 
the caimans; yet there are but few destroyed in 
this way, as the hogadores are too much occupied in 


72 


THE INDIAN MOTHER AND CAIMAN. 


navigating their crafts ; and, moreover, it is a very 
difficult thing to kill an alligator by a shot. You 
can only do it by sending the bullet into his eye, 
as the rest of his body is impei’vious even to a mus* 
ket ball. Of course, to hit one in the eye requires a 
sure aim, and a good opportunity when the animal is 
lying still upon the bank or on the water. When 
out of the water, a caiman may be shot in the soft, 
elastic skin behind the fore shoulder ; but this is a 
very uncertain method of killing one ; and several 
shots fired into his body at this part will often fail to 
prove fatal. Sometimes the natives of the Magdalena 
catch the caimans with lassoes, and, after dragging 
them upon the bank, despatch them with axes and 
spears. Notwithstanding this, the caimans swarm 
upon these rivers, and are seldom molested by the 
inhabitants, except at intervals, when some horrid 
tragedy happens — when some unfortunate victim 
has been snatched off by them, torn in pieces, and 
devoured. When this occurs, the people, sympa- 
thizing with the distress of their neighbor, awake 
from their habitual apathy, collect together, and de- 
stroy great numbers of these hideous reptiles. The 
story I have promised you illustrates an affair of 
this kind. 

“ A vaquero (cattle herd) lived upon the Magda, 
lena, some miles above the city of New Carthagena. 
His palm-thatched rancho, or cottage, stood at a little 
distance from the bank of the river, at a point where 
it was much infested by caimans, as the country 
around was wild and thinly settled. The vaquero 
had a wife and one child, a daughter, who was about 


THE INDIAN MOTHER AND CAIMAN. 73 

SIX or seven years old ; and being a pretty little girl 
and the only one, she was of course very dear tc 
both the parents. 

“ The vaquero was ofteL absent from home, hk 
business with his cattle carrv mg him to a great dis- 
tance into the woods. But hus wife thought nothing 
of being thus left alone. She was an Indian woman, 
and used to dangers such as would terrify the females 
thal live in great cities. 

‘ One day, when her husband was absent, as usual 
looking after his cattle, this woman took some clothes 
to the river bank for the purpose of wa'^hing them. 
The river was the only water near the ra-mho , and 
by thus carrying the clothes to it, che saved herself 
the trouble of fetching the water a good way ; >esides 
there was a broad, smooth stone by the banlr, 'vhere 
she was accustomed to beat out her linen. Her 
little daughter accompanied her, carrying one of 
the bundles. 

“ On reaching the spot, the womaii filled her ves- 
sels with water, and commenced . her work ; while 
the child, having nothing else to cecupy her, began 
to gather some ripe guavas, pluck’.ig them from a 
tree that grew out from the bank, and hung some- 
what over the river. While the Indnn\ moiher was 
thus engaged, she was startled by a wild scream 
and a plunge, that were heard almost together ; and, 
on looking round, she saw her child just sinking in 
the water. At the same time, she beheld a hideous 
object — a huge caiman — making for the spot. 
Filled with homar, the woman dropped her linen 
und rushed out ipon the bank. She did not hesitate 
7 


74 


THE INDIAN MOTHER AND CAIMAN. 


a moment, but plunged into the river, whic.a buried 
her .to the neck. At that moment the child rose 
again to the surface. The mother seized her by the 
arms, and was about raising her out of the water 
when the caiman swept forward open mouthed, caught 
the limbs of the little girl, and with one crunch of 
his powerful jaws severed them from the body. The 
little girl screamed again ; but it was her last scream, 
^hen the mother struggled to the shoie, and laid 
ihe mutilated body upon the bank, the child had 
ceased to breathe. 

“ For some moments sat the wretched mother, 
gazing upon the still quivering remains. At intervals, 
she stooped down and kissed the pale, withering lips. 
She did not weep. I have said she was an Indian. 
They do not act as whites do ; but, any how, her 
mguish was too keen to allow her tears to flow. She 
hd not scream or call for help. It could be of no 
use now. It was too late. She knew there was no 
one near — no one within miles of her. When she 
raised her eyes from the mangled corpse, it was only 
to rest them upon the black water ; and there, under 
the shadow of the guava bushes, swam the hideous 
reptile, to and fro. He had swallowed the morsel, 
and was eagerly watching for more. 

“ The countenance of the woman betrayed a min- 
gled expression of agony and vengeance. All at 
once a thought seemed to strike her — a sudden 
resolve. She rose ; and, casting a look first at the 
dead body, and then upon the caiman, hurried off to 
the house. In a few minutes she came back, bringing 
with her a long spear. It was the hunting spear of 


THE INDIAN MOTHER AND CAIMAN. 


75 


’\er husband — often used by him in his encounters 
Wxth the Brazilian tiger, and other fierce creatures 
of the forest. She brought also several ether arti 
cles — a ^asso, some cords of the pita^ and a coupk 
of knives. 

“ On arriving at the bank, she looked anxiously 
over. The caiman was still there ; and she turned 
and stood for a moment as if considering what to do. 
Her mind was soon made up ; and, bending forward 
she thrust the spear lengthwise through what remained 
of her child’s body ! It was a fearful act, but the 
feeling of revenge was strong within her. She next 
caught the blade of the spear — now red with blood 
— and placing the knives lengthwise — so that they 
might serve as barbs — tied them firmly upon it with 
the pita cord. Close up to these she pushed the 
mangled body, and then looped the lasso tightly to 
the shaft of the spear. The other end she made 
fast to the trunk of a guava tree — for she well knew 
that her own strength would avail but little against 
such a monster as the caiman. 

“ When all was ready she poised the shaft, and 
flung spear, body, and all, into the water. Then 
taking the rope in her hand, she crouched behind the 
bushes to await the result. 

“ She had not long to wait. The reptile, thirsting 
for more blood, saw the tempting morsel ; and, dart- 
ing forward, seized it in his huge jaws, crushing it in 
the act. The woman remained motionless, biding 
her time. 

“ The caimans do not masticate their food. Their 
teeth are not formed for that. They are only made 


76 


fKE INDIAN MOTHER AND CAI’MAN. 


for seizing ; and the tongue — which they cannot ei 
tend forward — only seiwes to assist them in swallow* 
ing. In ct few moments the body had disappeared 
down the capacious throat of the monster. Seeing 
fhis, the woman suddenly sprang to her feet, and 
dragged violently upon the rope, and the next mo- 
ment a wild scream announced that she had suc- 
ceeded ill her intentions. The barbed blades had 
oiken hold, and the caiman was secured ! 

“ Finding himself thus caught, the huge reptile 
dived to the bottom, then rose again, bellowing 
loudl} , and lashing the water into foam, the blood 
all the while running from his jaws and nostrils. At 
intervals, he would rush from point to point — until 
suddenly checked by the strong raw-hide lasso — 
making the tree shake with his great strength ; and 
this he did for a long while. His struggles at length 
grew faint«».r, and more feeble, and he lay motionless 
in the water. Throughout all this scene the mother 
sat upon the bank of the river, at times in deep 
silence and dejected, while at intervals her face would 
light up with a vengeful expression, as she cast her 
eyes upon the monster that had robbed her of her 
child. 

“ At length the gallop of a horse roused her from 
her reverie. She looked around. It was her husband ! 

“ The melancholy tale was soon told ; and shortly 
after was carried to those that dwelt nearest them. 
The grief was general ; and the sympathy that fob 
lowed caused a general rising throughout the neigh- 
borhood ; and for several days afterwards a war of 
extermination was waged against the caimans 


THE INDIAN MOTHER AND CAIMAN. 


77 


This, brothers,” said Lucien, “ is a true r^aim* 
hv 3 and, in fact, it is only a year or two since the 
painful incident occurred.” 

“ And a painful incident it was,” cried Basil, with 
some excitement. “ Thunder ! it makes one hate 
those monsters so. I feel like having a shot at one 
this very moment; besides, I want a tooth for a 
powder charger ; ” and as he said this, he took up 
his rifle, and stepped out to the water’s edge. None 
of the alligators appeared to be within range at the 
moment, though dozens of them were seen moving 
about on the bayou. 

“ Hold, brother ! ” shouted Fran9ois. “ Have pa- 
tience a little, and I’ll bring them near enough. 
Place yourself in ambush, while I call them.” 

Now, one of Fran9ois’ accomplishments was an 
un iiTual talent for mimicry. He could imitate every 
thing, from the crowing of a cock to the bellowing 
of a bull, and so naturally as to deceive even the 
animals themselves. Running down towards the 
bank, he crouched behind some yucca bushes, ana 
commenced whining and barking like a young puppy. 
Basil also concealed himself among the bushes. 

In a few seconds, several alligators were seen 
swimming over the bayou, coming from all sides at 
once. They were not long in reaching the bank 
where Fran9ois lay concealed, ard foremost of all a 
large male, throwing up his snout, crawled out of the 
water. He was calculating, no doubt, on making a 
meal Df something ; but was doomed to disappoint 
ment, and worse than that, for the sharp crack of 
Basi’'s rifle rang upon the air, and the hideous reptUf 


78 


THE INDIAN MOTHER AND CAIMAN. 


rolled over in the mud ; and, after sprawling about 
for a while, lay motionless. He was quite dead, aa 
the well-aimed rifle had sent a bullet right into his eys. 

Basil and Fran 9 ois now showed themselves — aa 
they did not care to waste their ammunition by 
shooting any more — and the rest of the alligators, 
seeing them, swam off faster than they had come. 
By the aid of Lucien’s hatchet, the largest teeth 
were knocked out of the jaws of the one that had 
oeen killed ; and the horrid carcass was left where it 
ray, to feed the wolves and vultures, or any thing else 
ihat chose to make a meal of it. 

After cooking a pot of coffee and a venison steak 
f6r supper, our adventurers spread their buffalo robes 
within the tent, and went to rest for the night. 

Next morning they were astir by daybreak , anJ 
after breakfasting heartily, they saddled their horses, 
and resumed their journey. 


THE FOOI OF THE SILEWOEM. 


79 


CHAPTER X. 

THE FOOD OF THE SILKWORM. 


After leaving Bayou Crocodile, our young hunters 
ImveMid due west, over the prairies of Opelousas 
They did not expect to fall in with buffalo on these 
great meadows. No. The bison had long since for- 
saken the pastures of Opelousas, and gone far west- 
ward. In his place thousands of long-horned cattle 
roamed over these plains ; but these, although wild 
enough, belonged to owners, and were all marked 
and tended by mounted herdsmen. There were 
white settlements upon the prairies of Opelousas, but 
our adventurers did not go out of their way to visit 
them. Their purpose was to get far beyond ; and 
they did not wish to lose time. 

They crossed numerous bayous and rivers, gen- 
erally running southward into the Mexican Gulf. 
The shallow ones they forded, while those that were 
too deep for fording, they swam over upon their 
horses. They thought nothing of that — for theif 
horses, as well as the mule Jeannette and the dog 
Marengo, were all trained to swim like fishes. 

After many days’ travel they reached the banks of 
the River Sabine, which divides Louisiana from Texas 
then a part of the Mexican territory. The face of 
the country was here very different from most of 


80 


THE FOOD OF THE SILKWORM. 


that they had passed over. It was more hilly and 
upland ; and the vegetation had altogether changed 
The great dark cypress had disappeared, and pines 
were more abundant. The forests were lighter and 
more open. 

There was a freshet in the Sabine ; but they 
swam across it, as they had done other rivers, and 
halted to encamp upon its western bank. It was 
still only a little after noon ; but as they had wet 
their baggage in crossing, they resolved to remain 
by the river for the rest of the day. They made 
their camp in an open space in the midst of a grove 
of low trees. There were many open spaces, for the 
trees stood wide apart, and the grove looked verj’ 
much like a deserted orchard. Here and there a tab 
magnolia raised its cone-shaped summit high above 
the rest, and a huge trunk of one of these, without 
leaves or branches, appeared at some distance, stand- 
ing like an old ruined tower. 

The ground was covered with flowers of many 
kinds. There were blue lupines and golden heli- 
anthi. There were malvas and purple monardas, 
and flowers of the cotton rose, flve inches in diameter. 
There were blossoms of vines, and creeping plants, 
that twined around the trees, or stretched in festoons 
from one to another — the cane vine with its white 
clusters, and the raccoon grape,' whose sweet odors 
perfumed the air ; but by far the most showy were 
die large blossoms of the bignonia, that covered the 
festoons with their trumpet-shaped corollas, exhibit- 
ing broad surfaces of bright scarlet. 

In the midst of these flowers our hunters pkched 


THE FOOD OF THE SILKWr rW., 


15J 


camp, p cketing ♦heir animals, and putting up theii 
tent as usual. 

The sun was shining brightly, and they proceedeo 
to spread their wet robes and blankets. 

“ It strikes me,” said Lucien, after they had com- 
pleted their arrangements for camping, “ that w^e 
have halted on the site of an old Indian town.” ‘ 

Why do you think so ? ” asked Basil. 

“Why, I notice these heaps of rubbish here that 
are covered with weeds and briers. They are Indian 
graves, or piles of decayed logs where houses once 
stood. I can tell from the trees, too.' Look around ! 
Do you see any thing peculiar in these trees ? ” 

“ Nothing,” replied Basil and Fran9ois together. 
“ Nothing, except that they are mostly small and low.” 

“Do you not observe any thing odd in their 
species } ” 

“ No,” said Basil. “ I think I have seen tht-m all 
before. There are mulberry trees, and blacir wal- 
nuts, and Chicasaw plums, and papaws, and Osage 
orange, and shell-bark hickories, and pecaixS, and 
honey locusts. I see no others except vinos, and 
those great magnolias. I have seen all these trees 
before.” 

“ Yes,” returned Lucien, “ but have you ever 
observed them all growing together in this way ? ” 

“ Ah ! that is a different aflair : I believe not.” 

“ Because it is from that fact,” continued Lucien, 
“ that I am led to believe this spot was once the seat 
of an Indian settlement. These trees, or others that 
produced them, have been planted here, and th« 
Indians.” 

E 


S2 THE FOOD OF THE SILKWORIT 

“ But, brother Luce,” interposed Fran 9 oifi, ^ > 
never heard that the Indians of these parts raado 
such settlements as this must have been. Thesa 
low woods extend down the river for miles. They 
must have had a large tract under cultivation.” 

“ I think,” replied Lucien, “ the Indians who al 
present inhabit this region never planted these tre«s. 
It is more likely a settlement of the ancient nation 
of the Natchez.” 

“ The Natchez ! Why, that is the name of a towQ 
on the Mississippi; but I did not know there were 
Indians of that name.” 

“ Neither are there, now ; but there once was a 
very extensive tribe so called, who occupied the whole 
territory of Louisiana. It is said that, like the Mexi. 
cans and Peruvians, they had made some progress in 
civilization, and knew how to weave cloth and cult - 
vate the soil. They are now an extinct race.” 

“ How came that about ? ” 

“No one can tell. Some of the old Spanish au 
thors say that they were destroyed by Indians fron : 
South America. This story, however, is very absurd, 
as is, indeed, most of what has been written by these 
same old Spanish authors, whose books read more 
like the productions of children than of reasoning 
men. It is far more likely that the Natchez were 
conquered by the Creeks and Chicasaws, who came 
from the south-west of their country ; and that the 
remnant of their tribe became blended with and losi 
among the conquerors. In my opinion, this is how 
they have come to be extinct. Why, then, should not 
ehis be one of theii ancient settlements, and these 


THE FOOD OF T^IL SILKWORM. 


83 


♦rocs the remains of their orchu/ds, cultivated by 
them for their fruits and other uses ? ” 

“ But we make but litie use of such ,rees,” re- 
marked Fran5ois. 

“ What’s that you say ? ” exclaimed Basil. “ You, 
Francois, who every year eat such quantities of 
shell-bark nuts, and pecans, and red mulberries, too ! 
— Vou who suck persimmons like a ’possum ! — No 
use, eh ? ” 

“ Well, that’s true enough,” rejoined Fran9ois ; 
“ but still we do not cultivate these trees for their 
fruits ; we find them in the woods, growing naturally.” 

“ Because,” interrupted Lucien, “ we have the 
advantage of the Indians. We understand com- 
merce, and get other and better sorts of fruits from 
all parts of the world. We have cereals, too, such as 
wheat and rice, and many kinds which they had not 
we can therefore do without these trees. With the 
Indians it was different. It is true they had the In- 
dian com, or maize plant, (zee mdiz ;) but, like other 
people, they were fond of variety ; and these trees 
afforded them that. The Indian nations who lived 
within the tropics had variety enough. In fact, no 
people without commerce could have been better off 
in regard to fruit-bearing plants and trees than the 
Aztecs, and other tribes of the south. The Natchez 
however, and those in the temperate zone, had theii 
trees and plants as well — such as those we see 
before us — and from these they drew both neces- 
sary food, and luxurious fruits and beverages. In- 
deed, the early colonists did the same ; and many 
settlers in remote places make use to this day of 
those spontaneous productions of nature.” 


THE FOOD OF THE SILKWOKIu. 




“ Would it not be interesting, Basil,” said Fran90ia 
appealing to his elder brother, “ if Lucien would give 
a botanical description of all these trees, and tell ua 
their uses ? He knows all that.” 

Yes,” replied Basil, “ I should like to hear it.” 

“ That I shall do with pleasure,” said Lucien. 

Not, however, a botanical description, according to 
tho sense of the Linnaean school, as that would weary 
you soon enough, without adding much to your stock 
of information. I shall only state what I know of 
their properties and uses ; and I ma}'- remark that 
there is not a tree or plant that is not intended for 
some use in the economy of nature. If botanists 
had spent their time in trying to discover these uses, 
instead of wasting it in idle classifications, mankind 
would have been more enriched by their labors. 

“ Let us begin, then, with the mulberry tree, as 
there are many of them growing around. Were I 
to tell you all about this valuable tree, I should occu- 
py a day or more. I shall only state those facts 
about it that are most interesting. 

“ The mulberry trees form the genus morns — for 
this was the name by which they were known to the 
ancient Greeks. Of this genus there are several 
well-known species. No doubt there may be other 
species growing in wild countries, and yet unknown 
or undescribed by botanists ; and this remark applies 
as well to Other trees, for everjr day we hear of new 
varieties being discovered by ep+o'*nTismfi: explorers. 

“First, then, comes the whi*'' ’Triulberrv. imorus 
alba.) I< is the most important vet known. 

This you will readily admit when . te^l von tliat fr< 4 t» 


THE FOOD OF THE SILKWORM. 


85 


it comt-s dll our silk — spun out of it by the silkworm, 
{^bomhyx mori.) It is called white mulberry on ac* 
count* of the color of its fruit, which, however, is not 
always white, but sometimes of a purple cr black 
color. Now, it would be difficult to give an exact 
description of a white mulberry tree ; for, like the 
apple and pear trees, there are many varieties of it 
produced from the same seeds, and also by difference 
of soil and climate. It is a small tree, however, 
rarely growing over forty feet high, with thick leaves 
and numerous branches. The leaves are the most 
important part of it ; for it is upon these the silk- 
worms feed, spinning their fine threads out of the 
mdky juice, which in its properties resembles the 
juice of the caoutchouc tree. It is true that the silk 
worm will feed upon the other species of mulberries, 
and also upon slippery elms, figs, lettuce, beets, 
endive, and many kinds of leaves besides ; but the 
silk made from all these is of an inferior quality; and 
even the varieties of the white mulberiy itself pro 
duce different qualities of this beautiful material. 

“ This tree has other uses. Its wood is compact 
and heavy, weighing forty-four pounds to the cubic 
foot. In France it is much used in turnery ; and 
wine casks are made from it, as it gives to white 
wines an agreeable flavor of violets. Vine props 
and fences are made from its branches ; and out of 
its bark — by a process which I have not time to 
describe — a cloth can be mnufactured almost as fine 
as silk itself. The fruit of the white mulberry — 
where it grows in warm climates — is very gocd to 
eat, and makes an excellent sirup. 

8 


N6 THE FOOD OF THE SILKWORM. 

“ The white mulberry, it is supposed, first came 
from China, where it is still found growing wild , and 
the Chinese first cultivated it for feeding silkw’-orma 
as early as 2700 years before the Christian era 
The tree is now found in every civilized country, 
growing either as an ornament of the shrubbery, or 
for the manufacture of silk. 

“ The next species is the black mulberry, {morm 
nigra,) so called on account of the color of its fruit, 
which is of a dark purple, nearly black. This kind 
came originally from Persia, but is now, like the 
white mulberry, found in all civilized countries. It 
IS cultivated more for ornament and shade than for 
feeding silkworms ; though it is put to this use in 
some parts, especially in cold climates, where the 
other species does not thrive. They are easily dis- 
tinguished from each other, the bark of the black 
being much rougher and darker. The wood of the 
latter is not so firm nor heavy as the white, but it 
is also durable, and is used in England for hoops, 
wheels, and ribs of small vessels. In Spain, Italy, 
and Persia, they prefer the leaves of the black for 
feeding the silkworm. They are also eaten by cattle, 
sheep, and goats. The roots, when prepared, are 
used as a vermifuge. The fruit has a pleasant, aro- 
matic taste, and is eaten both raw and in preserves, 
or, mixed with cider, makes an agreeable drink. The 
Greeks distil a clear, weak brandy out of them and 
in France they make a wine from these mulberries — 
which must be drunk while it is new, as it soon turns 
to vinegar. This fruit is good for fevers and rheuma- 
tisms ; and it is much sought after by birds and ab 
kinds of poultry, who devour it greedily. 


THE lOOD OF THE SILKWOAM. 


61 


' So much for the white and black mulberr)* tree. 
H’e BOW come to the third species, the red, {morui 
nihra.) 

^*That is the red before your face,” continued 
Lueien, pointing to the trees, which he had already 
designated. “ It is so called from the fruit, which, aa 
you know, is of a dark-red color, and resembles red 
raspberries more than any thing in the world. Some 
of these trees, you see, are nearly seventy feet in 
height, though it usually does not reach so high. You 
notice the leaves. They are heart-shaped, many of 
them ten inch.js long, and nearly as broad as long 
They are dark green and rough, and for feeding the 
silkworm quite useless where the white mulberry 
grows. They form a delightful shade, however; 
and this is one of the uses of this beautiful tree. 
The fruit, too, is, in my opinion, — and I think 
Fran9ois will agree with me, — quite equal to the 
best raspberries. As for the wood, it is much used 
in the dock yards of the Southern States. It is of 
a pale lemon color; and is considered more dura- 
ble for tree-nails than any other — that of the locust 
excepted, 

“ The red mulberry, like the white and black 
species, runs into several varieties, differing consid 
drably from each other. 

“ There is still a fourth species of this genus, called 
‘he paper mulberry, {morus papyrifera.) This, how- 
ever, has been separated by botanists into anothei 
genus ; but it is worth a word here, as it is a very 
curious and valuable tree, or, rather, a large shrub, 
for it does not grow so tall as either of the othei 


88 


THE FOOD OF THE SILKWORM. 


three. It is a native of China, Japan, and th(! islands 
of the Pacific Ocean ; but, like the others, it is culti- 
vated for ornament both in Europe and America, 
its fruit, which is of a scarlet color, is globe-shaped, 
and not oblong, as that of the true mulberries ; and 
this is one reason why it has been separated into a 
genus by itself. Its leaves are of no use for silk- 
making, but they make excellent food for cattle and, 
as the tree grows rapidly, and carries such .arge 
bunches of leaves, some people have said that it 
would yield better than grass, and should be cultivated 
for pasture. I do not know whether this has been 
•jied yet. The most interesting part of the paper 
mulberry is its bark, which is used in the manufacture 
of paper both in China and Japan. The beautiful 
India paper used for engravings is made from it, and 
so, too, is the fine white cloth worn by the natives of 
the Society Islands, and which so much astonished 
Europeans when they first saw it. It would be in- 
teresting to detail the process of manufacturing this 
cloth as well as the paper, but it would take up too 
much of our time at present. 

“ There is another genus of trees which resembles 
the mulberries very much. They are valuable foi 
their wood, which produces a fine yellow dve, known 
by the name of ‘ fustic wood.’ The tree that pro 
duces the best of this dye is the morns tinctoria, and 
grows in the West Indies and trooical America: bu» 
there is a species found in the southern United States 
of an inferior kind, which produ^o** ‘ Kay^ard ^na. 
lie ’ of commerce. 

“ So much, then, for the mulberrv tree : but I fear 


THE FOOD OF THE SILKWORM. 


89 


>»rot]icrs, I have left but little time to describe the 
others.” 

“ O, plenty of time,” said Basil ; “ we have nothing 
else to do. We are better learning from you than 
rambling idly about ; and, upon my word. Luce, you 
make me begin to take an interest in botany.” 

“ Well, I am glad of that,” rejoined Lucien, “ for I 
hold it to be a science productive of much good, not 
only on account of its utility in the arts and manu- 
factures, but to the mind of the student himself ; for, 
in my belief, it has a refining influence.” 

And Lucien was about to continue his description 
of the trees, when a .series of incidents occurred 
which put an end to the conversation, at least upon 
that subject. 

These incidents are recorded in the chapter ^hicb 
follows. 


90 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


CHAPTER XL 

THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 

Directly in front of the tent, and at no great dio 
tcince from it, a thick network of vines stretched 
between Iwo trees. These trees were large tupeloes, 
and the vines, clinging from trunk to trunk and to 
one another, formed an impenetrable screen witn 
their dark-green leaves. Over the leaves grew flow- 
ers, so thickly as almost to hide them — the whole 
surface shining as if a bright carpet had been sprea 
from tree to tree, and hung down between them. 
The flowers were of different colors. Some were 
white and starlike, but the greater number were the 
large scarlet cups of the trumpet vine, (bignonia.) 

Fran5ois, although listening to his brother, had for 
some time kept his eyes in that direction, as if ad- 
miring the flowers. All at once, interrupting the 
conversation, he exclaimed, — 

“ Voila ! look yonder — hummingbirds ! ” 

Now, the sight of hummingbirds is not so common 
m America as travellers would have you believe. 
Even in Mexico, where the species are numerous, you 
will not see them every day. Indeed, you may not 
notice them at all, unless you are specially looking 
for them. They are such small creatures, and fly so 
limblj — darting from flower to flower and tree to 














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THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION 


91 


nec — that you may pass along without observing 
them, or perhaps mistake them for bees. In the 
United States, however, where only one species has 
yet been noticed, the sight is a rare one, and gener- 
ally interesting to those who witness it. Hence Fran- 
cois’ exclamation was one of surprise and pleasure. 

“ Where are they ? ” inquired Lucien, starting up 
in an interested manner. 

“ Yonder,” replied Francois, “ by the trumpet 
flowers. I see several, I think.” 

“ Softly, brothers,” said Lucien ; “ approach them 
gently, so as not to fright them off. I wish to make 
some observations upon them.” 

As Lucien said this, he walked cautiously forward, 
followed by Basil and Franpois. 

“ Ah ! ” exclaimed Lucien, as they drew near, “ 1 
see one now. It is the ruby throat, {trochilus coin- 
hris.) He is feeding on the bignonias. They are 
fonder of them than any other blossoms. See ! he 
has gone up into the funnel of the flower. Ha ! he 
is out again. Listen to his whirring wings, like the 
hum of a great bee. It is from that he takes his 
name of ‘ hummingbird.’ See his throat, how it 
glitters — just like a ruby ! ” 

“ Another ! ” cried Francois ; look above ! It la 
not near so pretty as the first. Is it a different 
species ? ” 

“ No,” replied Lucien, “ it is the female of the 
same ; but its color is not so bright, and you may 
notice that it wants the ruby throat.” 

“ I see no others,” said Francois, after a pause. 

“ 1 think there are but the two,” remarked Lucien 


92 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


‘ a mile and female. It is their breeding season. 
No doubt their nest is near.” 

“ Shall we try to catch them ? ” inquired Francois 

“ That we could not do, unless we had a net.” 

“ I can shoot them with small shot.” 

“ No, no,” said Lucien, “ the smallest would tear 
them to pieces. They are sometimes shot whh pop- 
py seeds, and sometimes with water. But never 
mind. I would rather observe them a bit as they 
are. I want to satisfy myself upon a point. You 
may look for the nest, as you have good eyes. 
Y’ou will find it near — in some naked fork, but not 
among the twigs or leaves.” 

Basil and Fran9ois set about looking for the nest, 
while Lucien continued to watch the evolutions of the 
tiny little creatures. The “ point” upon which oui 
young naturalist wished to be satisfied was, whethei 
the hummingbirds eat insects as well as honey — a 
point which has been debated among ornithologists. 

As he stood watching them, a large humbleber 
(apis hombylicus) came whizzing along, and settles 
in one of the flowers. Its feet had scarcely toucheu 
the bright petals, when the male ruby throat darted 
towards it, and attacked it like a little fury. Boto 
came out of the flower together, carrying on then 
miniature battle as they flew ; but, after a short con- 
test, the bee turned tail, and flew ofl* with an angry- 
like buzz — no doubt occasioned by the plying of 
his wings more rapidly in flight. 

A shout fron Fran9ois now told that the nest 
was discovered. There it was, in the fork of a 'ow 
branch, but without eggs as yei- else the bii-ds 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCl ON. 


93 


would not both have beerL abroad. The nest was 
examined by all three, though they o’d not disturb 
It from its position. It was built of fii le threads of 
Spanish moss, (tillandsia,) with which it was tied 
to the branch ; and it was lined inside with the silken 
down of the anemone. It was a semi-sphere, open 
at the top, and but one inch in diameter. In fact, so 
small was the whole structure, that any one but 
the sharp-eyed, bird-catching, nest-seeking Fran9oia 
would have taken it for a knob on the bark of 
the tree. 

All three now returned to watch the manoeuvres 
of the birds, that, not having seen them by the nest, 
still continued playing among the flowers. The boys 
stole as near as possible, keeping behind a large 
bunch of hanging vines. Lucien was nearest, and 
his face was within a few feet of the little creatures, 
so that he could observe eveiy motion they made. 
He was soon gratified with a sight that determined 
his “ point ” for him. A swarm of small blue-winged 
flies attracted his attention. They were among the 
blossoms, sometimes resting upon them, and some- 
times flitting about from one to another. He saw the 
birds several times dash at them with open bills, and 
pick them from their perch ; so the question was de- 
cided — the hummingbirds were insect eaters. 

After a while the female flew off to her nest, .eav- 
ing the male still among the flowers. 

The curiosity of the boys was now satisfied, and 
they were about to return to the tent, when Lucien 
suddenly made a motion, whispering the ctheis to 
remain sil^^t. Francois first caugbi sight of the 


94 


THE CHAIN OF DESTi.UCTION. 


object which had caused this behavior on /he part 
of his brother, and then Basil saw it. A hideot $ ob- 
ject it was. 

Crouching among the leaves, now crawling side- 
wise, now making short springs, and then hiding 
itself, went a fearful-looking creature. It was about 
the size of one of the birds, but far different in ap- 
pearance. Its body consisted of two pieces, joined 
about the middle, and covered all over with a reddish- 
brown wool or hair, that stood upright like bristles. 
It had ten limbs — long, crooked, and covered with 
hair, like the body — two curved clawlike antennse or 
feelers in front, and two horns projecting behind, so 
that, but for the sharp, fiery eyes of the creature, it 
would have been difficult to tell its head from its 
hinder part. Its rusty color, its ill-shaped body, and 
hairy legs, combined with the piercing look from its 
eyes, gave it a most vicious appearance, such as be- 
longs, less or more, to all of its race — for it was of 
the race aranea, or spiders. 

“ The leaping tarantula ! ” whispered Lucien to 
his brothers. “ See,” he continued, “ it is after the 
ruby throat ! ” 

This was evident. Step by step, and leap after 
ieap, it was approaching the cluster of blossoms 
where the hummingbird was at the moment en- 
gaged. Its eyes were bent eagerly upon the latter ; 
and whenever it flew up from the flowers and ^vhirred 
idly about, the tarantula squatted itself closely, 
hiding behind the leaves or shanks of the vines. On 
the other hand, when the bird settled a moment and 
appeared busily feeding, the skulking creature would 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


95 


advance a stage nearer, either by a quick run or a 
leap, when it would again conceal itself and await a 
fresh opportunity. As the bird flitted about a good 
deal, the spider had frequently to change its direction 
in following. The former, after one of its short 
flights, settled into a trumpet flower, directly in front 
of where the latter lay crouching. It did not enter 
the cup of the flower, but remained at the mouth — 
poised upon its whirring wings — while with its long^ 
prehensile tongue it drew out the honey. It had 
scarcely been a moment in this position, when the 
tarantula sprang forward and clutched it round the 
body with his antenme. The bird, with a wild chir- 
rup, like that of a distressed cricket, flew outward 
and upwards. Its wings were still free, and all ex- 
pected it would carry off the spider that was now 
seen clinging around it. Not so, however. On 
getting a few feet from the flower, its flight appeared 
to be suddenly checked ; and, although it still kept 
in the air, flying first one way and then another, it 
was evident that something restrained it from getting 
clear off. On looking more attentively, a fine, silk' 
like line was seen stretching from the trees to the 
fluttering creatui*e. It was the thread of the spider 
and this it was that prevented his victim from carry • 
mg him into the air. 

The little wings soon ceased to move, and both 
bird and spider fell to the end of the thread, where 
they hung for a moment suspended. The boys could 
see that the bird was dead, and the mandibles of the 
tarantula were buried in its shining throat ! 

FraD9ois would have rushed forward to kill th« 


96 


THE CHAIN OF .ESTRUCliu « 


destroyer ; but Lucien, who was too ardent a natural 
ist to have his lesson thus interrupted, restrained hia 
more impetuous brother, and all three remained quiet 
as before. 

The tarantula now commenced reeling in his line, 
for the purpose of carrying his prey up among the 
branches, where he had his nest. The boys looked 
upward to discover the latter. There, sure enough, 
was the web, in a shaded corner, stretching its meshes 
from a large liana to the trunk of the tupelo ; and to- 
wards this point the spider now slowly progressed 
with his lifeless victim. 

As they watched his motions, their eyes were 
«aught by a shining object that moved along the 
wrinkled bark of the liana. As the vine was nearly 
a foot in diameter, and of a deep ferruginous color, 
this object was the more apparent against its dark 
ground, for it was a creature of brilliant hues. It 
was an animal of the lizard species ; and if anj 
lizard could be considered beautiful, this one might 
have been so called. But the hideous, half-human 
form of these animals, their piercing looks, their 
stealthy and predatory habits, and, above all, the 
knowledge that the bite of several of their species is 
poisonous, combine to render them objects that excite 
disgust and awe, rather than admiration. 

This one, as we have already said, was of the 
most brilliant color. The whole of its upper surface 
was a golden green, vivid as the hues of an emerald 
wh/^e its body underneath was greenish- white. But 
.his part, as it lay along the liana, was not seen ; and 
a pure uniform green was the apparent color of the 


Tfl£ CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


91 


whole animal. There was one conspicuous excep* 
tion — the throat. This was swollen out, as though 
by inflation, exhibiting a surface of the brightest 
scarlet, that appeared in the sun as if painted with 
rermilion. The eyes of the animal shone like flame 
— foi the irides were, in fact, the color of burnished 
gold, with small pupils, sparkling like diamonds, in 
their midst. Its arms and limbs were of the same 
color as the body ; and its branching feet exhibited 
the peculiarity of having small knots, or tubercules, 
at the ends of the toes. These tubercules, together 
with the loose dewlap of the throat, told the genus to 
which the animal belonged — an anolius of the fam- 
ily iguanidcB^ and the only species of the anolius 
found in the territory of the United States. 

These facts were communicated by Lucien to his 
brothers in a whisper, while they were observing the 
creature on the liana. Basil and Fran9ois had often 
seen the species before, and were familiar with it 
under the names of “green lizard” and “chame- 
leon” — both of which names are applied to it in 
common phraseology. The animal was not over 
six inches in length ; and its long, coffin-shaped head, 
and slender, whip-like tail, were at least two thirds of 
this extent. When first noticed, it was passing up 
the liana, for the latter slanted upwards between the 
trees. It did not see the boys ; or, at all events, did 
not regard their presence — for the chameleon is a 
bold little animal, and is not afraid of man. Up to 
this time it had not seen the tarantula either. As it 
was passing onward, its eyes fell upon the latter as he 
climbed up his silken ladder. All at once the lizard 
9 


a 


98 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION 


Stopped and put itself into a crouching atl tude. Its 
color suddenly changed. The vermilion ihroat be« 
caine white, and then ashy pale ; and the bright gieen 
of its body faded into dark brown or rust color, until 
it was difficult to distinguish the arjmal from the bark 
of the liana ! Had the eyes of the spectators not 
been alreaxly fixed upon it, they might have supposed 
that it had disappeared altogether. After crouching 
for a few seconds, it seemed to have formed its plan 
of attack — for it was evident that it meant to attack 
the spider — such, with flies and other insects, being 
its natural food and prey. It passed to the opposite 
side of the liana, and then proceeded upward, making 
for the nest of the tarantula. It reached this point 
by a single run, although its back was downward as 
it crawled. This it could easily do by means of the 
tubercules upon its toes — which enable lizards of the 
genus anolius to walk upon perpendicular walls, up 
glass windows, or along the smoothest ceilings. 

For some moments it lay quiet, in a crouching atti- 
tude, waiting the approach of the spider, that, busied 
with his own affairs, did not dream of a lurking foe 
so near him. The tarantula was, no doubt, in high 
spirits at the moment, exulting at the prospect of the 
banquet of blood he should have, when he had carried 
the ruby throat to his dark, silken cave. But he was 
destined never to reach that cave. When he had got 
within a few inches of its entrance, the chameleop 
sprang out from the limb, seized the spider in hif 
wide jaws, and all three — lizard, spider, and bird — 
came to the ground together. The bird was let go 
in the fall, and became separated from the othcra 


1HE CHA'N OF DESTRUCTION, 


99 


Bet'.veen these there was a short struggle over the 
grass — for the tarantuia fought fiercely ; but he was 
lo match for his antagonist ; who, in a few moments, 
nad ground off his legs with his powerful jaws, and 
eft him a helpless and motionless trunk. The 
’.hameleon now seized his victim by the head, sunk 
nis sharp, conical teeth into its skull, and thus killed 
it outright. 

What appeared singular to all was, that the mo- 
ment the lizard had first sprung upon his prey, his 
bright colors returned like a flash, and he again ap- 
peared with his green back and red throat, if possible 
more brilliant than ever. 

He now commenced dragging the body of the 
spider over the grass, evidently making for some 
decayed logs, half covered with vines and briers, that 
formed a heap near the spot. Here, no doubt, was 
nis retreat. 

This time Fran9ois did not attempt to interfere. 
He had no desire to do so. He looked upon the 
death of the tarantula as a just punishmelit ; more- 
over, the chameleon, from its fine colors, its sportive 
habits, and its harmlessness, — so far as man is con- 
cerned, — is a general favorite with all ; and it was so 
with Fran9ois.. In fact, Fran9ois, as well as his 
brothers, who had often watched this little creature 
gambolling among the leaves, and feeding upon flies 
and other small insects, had never seen it exhibit so 
much ferocity before. Notwithstanding this, they all 
applauded it for killing the hideous tarantula ; and 
BO far as they were concerned, it might have earned 
the body to its hole without being molested. It was 


100 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


destined, however, to meet with interruption fion* 
another quarter. Franpois, whose quick eyes wer^ 
wandering about, suddenly exclaimed, — 

“ Look — brothers, look ! A scorpion lizard ! ” 

Basil and Lucien cast their eyes where Fran^oi* 
pointed — up to the trunk of a tree that rose over 
the spot where the chameleon was crawling. About 
twenty feet from the ground was a dark, round hole, 
evidently the former nest of the red-bellied wood- 
pecker, (picus Carolinus.) The birds, however, who 
made that nest had deserted it ; for it was now occu- 
pied by a creature of a far different kind, — a scor- 
pion lizard, — whose red head and broad shoulders 
at the moment protruded from the hole. 

All who have travelled the great American forests 
are familiar with such a sight ; for this animal may 
be often observed in similar situations. A more dis- 
agreeable sight is rarely met with. The scorpior 
lizard, with his red head and olive-brown body, is a 
hideous-looking reptile at best ; but when thus peer- 
ing from his gloomy tree cave, moving his pointed 
snout from side to side, his dark eyes glancing all the 
while with a fierce, malignant expression, it is difficult 
to conceive a more vicious-looking creature. 

His head was in motion when Fran9ois spoke, foi 
it was this that had caught the eye of the boy. It 
was moving from side to side, protruded out from the 
hole, the snout pointing downwards. The animal 
was watching the ground below, and evidently pre- 
paring to issue forth, and come down. The chame- 
leon, rust? ing over the dead leaves, had attracted hit 
attention 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


iOl 


As quick as lightning his whole body appeared 
upor? the tree, and lay flat along the bark, head down* 
wavds. Here he halted for a moment ; then, raising 
his shoulders, he ran nimbly down the trunk, and 
rushing outwards, sprang upon the chameleon. The 
latter, thus suddenly attacked, dropped the spider, 
and at first showed an intention of retreating. Had 
he done so, the scorpion would have followed him no 
farther, as its only object in attacking him was to rob 
lim of his prey. The chameleon, however, is a 
courageous little animal ; and seeing that his assail- 
ant was not much bigger than himself, — for the ani- 
mal in question was one of the smallest of the skink 
family, — he turned again, and showed fight. His 
throat swelled to its largest extent, and grew brighter 
than ever. 

Both now stood facing each other, and about twelve 
inches apart, in threatening attitudes. Their eyes 
sparkled ; their forked tongues shot forth, glittering 
in the sun ; and their heads at intervals rose and fell, 
in a manoeuvring manner, like a pair of pugilists 

coming to the scratch.” 

After a short while, they sprang at each other open 
jawed, wriggled over the ground a moment, — their 
tails flying in the air, — then separated, and again 
assumed their defiant attitudes, manoeuvring as be- 
fore. In this manner they met and parted several 
times, neither seeming to have gained much ad- 
lantage. 

The weakest part of the green lizard lies in his 
tail. So tender is this appendage, that the slightest 
blow of a small switch will separate it from the body 
9 * 


102 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


The skink seemed to be aware of this fact, as he sev 
eral times endeavored to get around his antagonist 
or, in military phraseology, to “ turn ” nim. It was 
evidently his intention to attack the tail. This the 
chameleon dreaded, and was equally desirous not to 
be “ outflanked.” In whatever way the skink manceu- 
vred, his antagonist met him with his scarlet front. 

For several minutes the battle raged, these little 
‘creatures exhibiting as much fury and fierceness as 
if they had been a pair of great crocodiles. The 
chameleon at length began to show symptoms of 
giving out. The throat grew paler, the green became 
less vivid, and it was evident that he was getting the 
worst of it. The scorpion now made a rush, and 
threw the other upon his back. Before the chame- 
leon could recover himself, his antagonist seized his 
tail, and bit it off close to the body. The poor little 
fellow, feeling that he had lost more than half his 
length, scuttled away, and hid himself among the 
logs. 

It was well for him, as it proved afterwards, that 
he got off even thus mutilated ; and it would have 
been better for the skink had he remained in his hole. 
The battle between the two had carried them some 
distance from the spot where it first commenced, and 
under the leafy, spreading branches of a mulberry 
tree. While the fight was raging, a slight movement 
in the leaves above had attracted the attention of the 
boys. The next moment a red object was thrust 
downward, until a foot or so of it appeared hanging 
c jear of the branches. It was about the thickness of 
a walking cane ; but the glistening scales, and thj 


THE chain of lestruction. 103 

flegani curving form, told that this singular object 
was a serpent. 

It did not remain stationary. It was slowly and 
gradually letting itself down ; for more of its body 
was every moment becoming visible, until a full yard 
of it hung out from the leaves. The remainder was 
hidden by the thick foliage, where its tail, no doubt, 
was coiled around a branch. That part of the body 
that was seen was of a uniform blood-red color, 
though the belly or under side was much the lightest. 

“ Voild ! ” muttered Frangois. “ What ! a red 
snake } I never saw such before.” 

“ Nor I either,” added Basil. 

“ Nor I,” said Lucien ; “ but I have heard of it. I 
easily recognize it from the description. It is the 
red snake’ of the llocky Mountains, (coluber tes- 
iaceay) 

“ O,” said Basil, “ I have heard trappers speak 
of it.” 

“ Yes,” added Lucien ; “ it is a rare species, and 
onl} found in the Far West. See ! the scorpion has 
whipped. The chameleon is running off, and, as I 
live, without its tail.” 

The skink at this moment perceived the long, red 
body of the serpent dangling above him ; and know- 
ing from experience a terrible enemy, ran off, en- 
deavoring to hide himself in the grass. Instead of 
making for a tree, where he might have escaped by 
his superior nimbleness, his confusion and terror led 
him out into the open ground. The snake dropp«a 
from the mulberry, and glided after, with his head 
raised high iu the air, and his jaws wide open. In « 


104 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


second or two he overtook the lizard, and striking 
forward and downward, killed it upon the spot. 

Luclen was in raptures with the interesting lesson 
he was receiving, and again restrained Francois from 
rushing forward. They all, however, crept a little 
nearer, so as the better to observe the further move- 
ments of the serpent. They kept as well as possible 
behind the screen of leaves and bushes. 

The snake, after having killed the lizard, remained 
out in the open ground, and stretching himself along 
the grass, commenced devouring it. Snakes do not 
masticate their food ; their teeth are not formed for 
this, but only for seizing and killing. The blood 
snake is not venomous, and is. therefore without fangs 
such as venomous snakes possess. In lieu of these, 
he possesses a double row of sharp teeth ; and, like 
the “ black snake,” the “ whip,” and others of the 
genus coluber, he is extremely swift, and possesses 
certain powers of constriction which are mostly want- 
ing in serpents of the venomous tribes. Like all the 
others, he swallows his prey just as he kills it — 
whole. So with the one in question. Having placed 
the nose of the lizard vis-d-vis with his own, he 
opened his jaws to their full extent, took in the head, 
and commenced gradually sucking the body down 
hi- throat. It was a curious operation, and the boys 
watched it with feelings of interest. 

But other eyes were bent upon the reptile. His 
bright, blood-colored body lying along the grass had 
caught the far-seeing eye of an enemy, whose dark 
shadow was now seen moving over the ground. On 
looking up, the boys beheld a large bird wheeling 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTICN. 


m 


m the air Its snow-white head and breast, the far- 
spread, tapering wings, but above all, the long, forked 
tail, told them at a glance what bird it was. It was 
the great southern kite, (falco furcatus.) 

When first seen, he was sailing in circles, or, 
rather, in a spiral curve, that was constantly con- 
tracting downward and inward. The centre of that 
curve was the spot occupied by the snake. 

It was a beautiful sight to behold this creature cut- 
ting the thin air. His flight was the beau ideal of 
ease and gracefulness, for in this no bird can equal 
the kite. Not a stroke of his long, pointed wings 
betrayed that he needed their assistance, and he 
seemed to glory that he could navigate the air with- 
out them. Besides, the motion of these, had he used 
them, might have caught the eye of his intended 
victim, and warned it of the danger. I say, it was 
a beautiful sight to watch him, as he swam through 
his aery circles, at one moment appearing all white, 
as his breast was turned to the spectators ; the next 
moment, his black back and purple wings glittering 
in the sun, as sidewise he guided himself down the 
spiral curve. It was a beautiful sight, and the young 
hunters stood gazing with silent admiration. 

Basil and Fran9ois wondered that he did not at 
once pounce upon the snake, for towards it his flight 
was evidently tending. They had seen other hawks 
do this, such as the red-tailed, the peregrine, and the 
ospray, which last sometimes shoots several hundred 
feet perpendicularly down upon its prey. Lucieri 
however, knew better ; he knew that that feat can be 
perfonr.ed only by those hawks whose tails ave ful’ 


106 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


and not forked, as the bald eagle and the specie* 
already named, their spreading tails giving them the 
power to suddenly arrest the downward motion, and 
prevent them from dashing themselves against the 
jarth. The kites, on the other hand, have not that 
power; and in this arrangement Lucien could per- 
ceive a beautiful adaptation of nature, an equalizing 
of advantages between these two kinds of birds. He 
reasoned thus : — 

The hawks, although swift of wing, and capable 
of extended flight, cannot remain long in the air 
They grow weary and neca rest, which they take, 
perching themselves upon some tree. It may be 
observed, moreover, that they choose dead trees that 
overlook an open space. They do so in order that 
the leaves may not obstruct their vision — thus giv- 
ing them a wider range, and, consequently, a better 
chance of espying their prey. But even with this 
advantage their chances of seeing their prey are 
circumscribed, when compared with that of hawks 
upon the wing; and they are frequently compelled 
to take to the air in order to discover it. 

Now, the kites are always in the air, or nearly so. 
They, in fact, live upon the wing^ eating their food, 
as they fly, from their claws. Living thus, they have 
many more chances of seeing their prey than their 
cousins of the hawk species ; and were they pos- 
sessed of the power to pounce upon it with as much 
certainty as the latter do, it is evident they would 
have greatly the advantage. The want of that capa- 
bility, however, brings them upon an equality ; and 
as I hcve said, Lucien perceived in this that peculiar 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


1(^7 


equilibrium, or “balance of power,” which constantly 
presents itscif to the student of nature. 

These thoughts passed through his mind at the 
moment. They occupied but a moment, however; 
for it was but a few seconds from the time the kite 
was first noticed wheeling high in the air, until he 
swept along the tops of the low trees, so close that 
the boys could distinguish the red iris of his glistea 
’.ng eyes. 

Now, for the first time, the snake caught sight of 
him. Hitherto it had been too much occupied with 
its own prey, which it had succeeded in swallowing. 
The shadow of the broad wings fell upon the sunlit 
sward directly before its eyes. It looked up, and 
saw its terrible enemy. It seemed to shiver through 
its whole length, and turn paler in color. ■*jlt struck 
Its head into the grass, endeavoring to hide itself. 
It was too late. The kite swooped gently down- 
ward ; and, with open claw, poised himself a moment 
over the spot. As he rose again, the reptile was 
seen wriggling in his talons ! ^ 

A few strokes of his bold wing carried the kite 
upward, above the tops of the tallest trees ; but ha 
was observed to fly heavily. As he rose higher, tha 
flapping of his wings became more hurried and ir- 
regular. It was evident that something was im- 
peding his flight. The snake was no longer hang- 
ing from his talons. The reptile had twined Itself 
around his body ; and its glistening folds, like red 
bands, could be seen half buried in the white plumage 
of the bird ! 

All at once the kite began to flutter — thfn one 


(08 


THE IAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


of his Wings disappeared ; and, notwithstanding the 
hurried flapping of the other, both bird and serpent 
fell heavily to the earth ! 

They fell close to the spot from whence they l.ad 
risen. Neither was killed by the fall, nor, to all 
appearance, hurt ; for, the moment after they had 
touched the ground, both were seen engaged in a 
violent struggle — the bird evidently endeavoring to 
free himself from the folds of the reptile, while the 
latter seemed equally bent upon holding.him ! The 
snake knew well that this was its only hope'; for, 
should it unfold itself and endeavor lo escape, it 
would only give the kite an opportunity of clutching 
it a second time, when he would be certain to do it 
with n^pre fatal effect. It was because the reptile 
bad buried its head in the grass that the kite had 
failed in seizing it properly by the neck, and putting 
an end to it at once. 

This, no doubt, was the idea of the snake ; but it is 
probable that its antagonist at the moment would 
have been delighted to “ cry quits ” with it, for the 
bird was in a worse “ fix ” than it was. As things 
stood, the serpent had undoubtedly the advantage. 

It was likely to prove a protracted struggle ; for 
although there was much twisting and wriggling over 
the ground, and flapping of the odd wing, that was 
still free, very little change for a long time ap- 
peared to take place in the relative position of the 
combatants. This could be seen whenever they 
paused to rest themselves, which they did every' two 
OT three minutes. 

How was it to end? The kite could not kill ll>« 


IHE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 10? 

fl’ake, for he could not ge. at it, either with his beak oi 
talons. The hold which he had at first taken he had 
lost in his attempts to save himself from falling ; and 
he was now unable to renew it, so closely was the 
reptile warped around him. The snake, on the other 
hand, could not kill the kite ; for, although possessed 
of considerable powers of constriction, they were not 
sufficient. It was strong enough to ho.d, and per* 
haps squeeze its antagonist, but not strong enough tc 
crush and kill him. 

Though each, no doubt, at the moment wished to 
be far enough from the other, they could not separate 
with safety to both. The kite could not get away^ 
and the snake dared not let him go ! 

How, then, was the affair to end, in the event that 
no third party should interfere ? This was the con- 
jecture of our adventurers, as with curious eyes they 
watched this singular contest. The train of reason- 
ing was as follows : — ^ 

By one or the other dying of hunger. But which 
would starve first ? It was well known that the kite 
could live for days without food. Ha ! but so, too, 
could the snake ; nay, more ; for every day the bird 
could go without eating, the reptile could fast ten ; 
besides, the snake had just dined — dined sumptu- 
ously upon the scorpion lizard, that was now lying 
undigested in his stomach ; whereas the kite had not 
tasted dinner, — nay, it was very certain he had not 
breakfasted either, — and must have been very hungry 
indeed to have attempted preying upon a blood snake 
fu’l four feet long ; for, as is well known, his usual 
prey is the locust, the chamelion, and the little green 
10 


110 


TflE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


snake [coluber 'cstivus.) Under every view of the 
question, then, the snake had the advantage of the 
bird, and would easily outstarve him. Thus, then, 
the affair would end, if the combatants were left to 
themselves. 

The young hunters arrived at this conclusion * and, 
having watched the contest until their curiosity was 
satisfied, were about stepping forward to put an end 
to it, when a new manoeuvre on the part of the com- 
batants caused them to remain still. The kite had 
got his beak close to the head of the serpent, and was 
striking with open mandibles, endeavoring to seize 
the jaw of the latter. He was upon his back — for 
these birds fight best in that position. The serpent, 
on the other hand, was trying his best to bite the 
oird ; and, for this purpose, at intervals extended its 
jaws, showing the double rows of sharp conical teeth. 
At one of these intervals, while its mouth was open, 
the kite struck quickly upward, and seized the lower 
jaw of the reptile in his beak. The latter closed its 
mouth on the instant ; but the horny mandible was 
impervious to its sharp teeth, and the bird regarded 
them not. 

The kite continued to hold fast with his powerful 
beak. He had now gained the advantage, for which 
he had been all the while contending. He had got 
a “ fulcrum for his lever,” and he was not slow in 
using it. Suddenly turning back upward, with the 
aid of his wing and one of his claws, he held himself 
fast to the ground, while with his strong neck he 
drew the head of the serpent close under him, until it 
A) within reach of his other claw. Then with a 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


11 


q^ick fierce stroke he planted his talons so as to 
encircle the throat of his adversary, clutching and 
holding it like a vice. 

This manoeuvre put a period to the contest. The 
red coils were seen to loosen, then fall off ; and, 
although the reptile still writhed, it was only in its 
death struggles. In a few moments its body lay 
along the grass, powerless and without motion. 

The kite, after a short rest, drew his beak from 
the jaws of the serpent, raised his head, extended his 
wings, — to assure himself they were free, — and, 
with a scream of triumph, rose upward, the long car- 
cass of the reptile trailing after him like a train ! 

At this moment another scream reached the ears 
of the young hunters. It might have passed for the 
echo of the first, but its tones were wilder and louder. 
All eyes were turned to the direction whence it came. 
The boys knew very well what sort of a creature 
iad uttered it, for they had heard such notes before. 
They knew it was the white-headed eagle. 

They caught sight of him the moment they turned, 
it was not difficult to see him soaring upward — his 
great tail and broad wings expanded, seven feet in 
extent, against the light-blue sky. 

When first seen his flight was nearly in a straight 
line, slanting up in the direction of the kite ; for that 
was the object that had started him. He was evi- 
dently bent upon robbing the latter of his late-gotten 
booty. - 

The kite had heard the cry that echoed his own ; 
and, knowing its import, at once plied all the power 
»f his wings to rise higher into the air. He seemed 


112 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


resolve! to hold on to his hard-earned plunder ; or 
at all events, not to yield it without giving the more 
powerful robber the trouble of a chase. The fresh 
remombranice of the peril he had passed through in 
obtaining it, no doubt, stimulated him to thisTesolve. 

Birds of his species will sometimes outfly and es« 
cape the eagle — that is, some, eagles, for these bird 
kings differ in degrees of swiftness as hounds or 
horses. So, too, do the kites ; and the one in ques- 
tion having, no doubt, full confidence in Ms wings, 
thought he would make trial of those of his pursuer, 
who, being personally unknown to him, might be 
some individual too fat, or too old, or too young, per- 
haps, to possess full powers of flight. At all events, 
he had made up his mind to have a “ fly ” for it, 
believing that, if overtaken, he could easily put an 
end to the pursuit by surrendering the snake, as his 
cousin, the ospray, often has to do with his fish. Up, 
therefore, he went in a spiral curve of about fifty 
yards in diameter. ^ 

If the kite entertained the idea that his pursuer 
was either a very old or young bird, or too fat a bird, 
or in any way a “ slow ” bird, he was likely to be 
soon undeceived. That idea was not shared by ihoso 
who watched him in his flight. On the contrary, the 
your.g hunters thought they had never seen a more 
splendid specimen of his kind — of full feather, snow- 
white head and tail tip, and broad, clean-cut wings, 
lie was one of the largest size, too, which proved him 
not to be a “ him,” but a female ; for, strange to say, 
Nature seems to have reversed her order with these 
birds, the females being universally brighter in phi* 


IHE CHAIN OF DESTKUCTION. 


113 


wiage, laiger in body, swifter of wing, stronger, and 
even fiercer, than the males. It may be inferred 
that, in the social life of “ eagledom,” the fair sex 
have their “ rights,” and perhaps a little more. One 
thing is certain, and it seems to be a consequence of 
this, (in compliment to the sbx I say it,) that nothing 
.ike polygamy is known amongst them. Woe to the 
eagle husband that would even dream of such a 
thing ! 

Voild ! up goes the kite, straining every pinion of 
nis pointed wings — up the spiral curve, screwing him- 
self towards the zenith. Upward follows the eagle, 
spirally as well, but in wider gyrations, that embrace 
and seem to hold the curvatures of the other within 
l.heir circumference. Both birds circle concentri- 
cally. Now their orbits cross each other ; now they 
are wheeling in parallel curves. Still upward flies 
the kite — still upward goes the pursuing eagle. 
Closer and closer they appear to come ; narrower 
grow their soaring circles ; but that is because they 
are more distant, and seem so. See ! the kite is but 
a speck, and appears stationary ; now he is lost to 
the view. See ! the eagle is but a speck ; she, too, 
disappears. No, not altogether — the little spot like 
the fragment of a white cloud, or a piece of snow 
upon the sky, that is her ta 1 tip. Ha ! it is gone, 
loo ; they are beyond the reach of our vision. . 

Hark ! Isli-sh-sh ! Did you hear that sound, like 
the whistling of a rocket } See ! something hag 
fallen upon the tree top, breaking several branches. 
As I live, it is the kite ! Dead he is, and the blood 
is spirting from a wound in his shoulder ! 

10 * H 


114 


THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 


Hark, again ! WhusJi-sh-usTi ! It is the eagle 
See ! she has the serpent in her talons ! . 

The eagle had shot down from her elevation, 
tliough no eye could have followed her in that arrow- 
like descent. When within two or three hundred 
yards of the ground, her wings flew out, her tail was 
spread, and, suddenly lowered, fanlike, to its fullest 
extent, arrested her downward course ; and, with a 
few measured strokes, she glided slowly over the 
tops of the trees, and alighted on the summit cf the 
dead magnolia. 

Basil seized his rifle, with the intention of having 
a shot. There was not much cover on the ground 
that encircled the tree where the eagle had perched 
herself ; and the young hunter knew from experience 
that his only chance of getting near enough was to 
make his approach upon horseback. He therefore 
drew the picket that fastened Black Hawk, and fling- 
ing himself upon the horse’s back, rode off among 
the bushes. He had been gone but a few minutes 
when a sharp crack was heard, and the eagle was 
seen tumbling from her perch. 

This was the last link in the chain of destruction I 




















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fHE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 


115 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE 


Basil retunied, bringing with him the great bird, 
(t was a female, as Lucien knew, and one of the 
largest, being over twelve pounds in weight, and 
measuring seven feet between the tips of the wings 
when expanded. The bird of this species rarely 
exceeds eight pounds in weight, and is proportion- 
ately small in other respects. 

The white-headed eagle, (falco leucocephalus,) or 
“ bald eagle,” as he is generally called, because his 
white head gives him somewhat of a bald appear 
ance, has been adopted by the United States as the 
emblem of their republic. If his disposition be con 
sidered, he would be a more fit emblem for a bana 
of robbers ; for a more absolute robber and tyran 
does not exist among the feathered races. He robs 
the ospray of his fish, and the vulture of his carrion , 
in short, lords it over every creature weaker than 
himself. Now, this is not the character of the nation 
he represents; far from it. It is true, they have 
shown a desire to extend their territory, and have 
made conquests to this end. But what is the motive 
of these conquests ? Is it to enslave, and render 
tributary ? No ; they conquer, not to enslave^ but 
to make free ! There are two motives far Anglo 


116 


THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 


American, I may say Anglo-Saxon, conquest, for true 
Englishmen feel these motives as much as Ameri- 
cans do. They wish to bring the whole world under 
a liberal form of government , one that will bear the 
scrutiny of reason ; one that, in time, may extinguish 
crime, and render poverty a thing of the past ; one 
that is not a patent usurpation and a robbery — a 
robbery, perhaps, more criminal in the eyes of God 
than waylaying on the high road or piracy on the 
high seas — more criminal, because more extensive 
in its fatal effects. Anglo-Saxons wish to destroy 
despotism, lest they or their descendants might again 
become what their ancestors once were — its victims. 
This, then, is one motive of their conquests, and it 
is nothing more than the naked instinct of self-pres- 
ervation. But there is another motive, a nobler and 
more generous one. They have drunk from the cup 
of Liberty ; the draught has pleased them, has given 
ihem happiness and joy ; and, urged by that better 
part of our nature, they wish to share that sweet cup 
— ample for all — with all men. This is the true 
motive of the conquest of civilization ; and under the 
banner of such a cause, it is a question whether war 
and anarchy, and confusion be not preferable to thr 
deceptive peace and apparent prosperity of despot 
ism, that, like the death-dealing vampire, soothe» 
while it destroys. 

I do not say that all Americans, nor all English 
men, are entitled to the glory of such a holy motive 
for conquest. No. Too large a proportion, alas ! 
are actuated only by the ignoble idea of selfish or 
national aggrandizement. The robber is often foiirul 


THK WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 


in 


in the same camp , and fighting under the same ban* 
ner, with the soldier of freedom. It is not strange, 
therefore, that the true sons of liberty should some* 
times be associated with its bastard children of the 
shackle and the whip. 

But I shall not weary you with any more political 
science. Not that I consider it of small importance 
to you. On the contrary, I deem that science the 
mjst important of all others that have ever occupied 
the attention of men. Its ii fluence extends to almost 
every object around you. It shapes the carriage in 
which you ride, and the ship in which you sail. Its 
knowledge modifies the nature of your soul, and de- 
cides whether you shall be a slave or a freeman. It 
even extends to the form of your body, giving it the 
abject attitude and gloomy aspect of slavery and 
guilt, or the bold, upright carriage and joyous look 
of virtue, which God gave to the first man when he 
made him after his own image. 

But come, boy reader ! 1 have promised not to 

weary you with these things. Such teachings I must 
reserve for a future opportunity, when, God willing, 
I shall present them to intellects older than yours. 
Perhaps you yourselves may then be old enough to 
take an interest in them ; and if so, you may learn 
some truths that for long years have been the study 
of your friend, the author. 

Now let us return to the eagle. 1 am thinking 
what a pity it is that the Americans should have 
chosen this tyrant bird as the emblem of their liber* 
ty ; for although he is most appropriate for one por 
tion of their people, he is far from being a fit embieni 


118 


THE WHITE-HEADED E. rLE. 


of the principles of the great republic. So thoughi 
the wise Franklin. There are many other animals 
peculiar to the territory of the United States, far more 
deserving of the distinction. There is the bold but 
harmless buffalo, the stately elk, and the industrious 
beaver ; or if a bird must needs be upon the banner 
where could one be found better suited to that end 
than the wild turkey, possessing, as he does, a com 
bination of good qualities — grace, beauty, courage 
and usefulness Thus reasoned Franklin ; and it 
might be yet worth the while of the American people 
to give consideration to his reasoning, and discard the 
eagle ; or, at all events, change the species — for 
peculiar to the United States territory, there is another 
bird of the kind, far nobler, as well as larger and 
more beautiful. 

It is curious to obseiwe how many countries have 
adopted this rapacious bird for their emblem ; and 
it forms a sad index to the motives that have hitherto 
actuated nations. In ancient times it was seen upon 
the banners of Persia and Rome. In modern days 
Napoleon spread its wings like black shadows over 
France. It is the emblem of Russian despotism and 
American freedom. Austria, Prussia, Poland, Sicily, 
Spain, Sardinia, and many of the small governments 
of Germany look up to the eagle on their standards ; 
while, upon the other side of the Atlantic, it waves 
over the great nations of the United States and 
Mexico, as well as several of the smaller republics. 
Why, a general war among the nations of the world 
would be almost exclusively a war among the eagles 
It is not improbable that the lion would insist upor 


THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE 


119 


Having a claw in the quarrel, although !iis honesty 
and nobility of disposition are very much doubted, 
particularly by the jackal and some other animals. 
He is, therefore, no better qualified to act as the rep- 
resentative of a pacific people than the very worst 
of the eagles ; but he fortunately has a wise keeper, 
called Public Opinion, who of late has held him under 
some restraint. 

“ What a chain of destruction ! ” exclaimed Lu- 
cien. “ One creature preying upon another.” 

“ Ay,” added Fran9ois ; “ and how curious it 
should begin with a bird and end with a bird. Look 
at the two together. Ha ! ha ! ” 

As Fran9ois made this '"‘remark, he pointed to the 
little hummingbird and the great eagle, which had 
been laid side by side upon the grass, and, sure 
enough, presented, in size and appearance, a most 
singular contrast to each other. 

“ You forget, Fran9ois,” said Lucien, “ there were 
two other links to the chain, and perhaps many 
more.” 

“ What other links ? ” demanded Fran9ois. 

“ The hummingbird, you remember, when attacked, 
was himself a destroyer. He was killing the little 
blue-winged fly.” 

“ That is certainly another link, but ” 

“ Who killed the eagle ? ” 

“ Ah, true ! Basil, then, was the last link in the 
chain of destruction.” 

“ Perhaps the most criminal, too,” said Lucien, 
* because the lea^t necessary. The other creature* 


120 


THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 


were but following out their instincts to procure food, 
whereas Basil’s only motive was one of wanton 
destruction.” 

“ I beg to differ with you, Luce,” said Basil, inter- 
rupting his brother, sharply ; “ it was no such thing. 
I shot that eagle because he killed the kite, and 
robbed him of his prey, instead of using h’s industry 
and getting food for himself. That’s why I added a 
link to your chain.” 

“ In that sense,” replied Lucien, smiling at his 
brother, who seemed a little ruffled at being thus 
charged with unnecessary cruelty — “ in that sense 
you were, perhaps, justifiable ; though it is difficult 
to understand why the eagle was more guilty than 
the kite himself. He took only one life, and so did 
the kite.” 

“ But,” rejoined Basil, “ in addition to taking away 
the life of his victim, he robbed him. Robbery and 
murder both. Now, the kite was guilty only of the 
tatter.” 

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Lucien and Francois 
together. “ There is a distinction with a difference ! ” 

“ But, brother Luce,” inquired Franfois, “ what 
did you, mean when you said there might be many 
more links to this chain ? ” 

“ Why, who knows but the blue-winged fly was 
preying upon some other creatures smaller than 
himself.? and these, again, upon others still less, 
who, though invisible to our eyes, possess life and 
organization as well as we. Who knows tc the con- 
trary .? And who knows the reason why a mysteri- 
rious Providence has created these beings to be the 


THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 


121 


food of each other } That is a question about which 
we can arrive at no satisfactory conclusion.” 

“ Who knows, brother,” said Fran9ois, “ since you 
are speculating — who knows but there may bo an 
extra link at the other end of the chain ? Ho, 
Basil ! what say you ? Suppose we fall in with 
grizzly bears.” And Frangois laughed as he put 
the question. 

‘ And supposing we do,” replied Basil, “ you are 
as likely to form that link as any body else,” 

“ Heaven forbid ! ” exclaimed Liucien. “ I hope 
that in all our travels we shall see neither a grizzly 
bear nor an Indian.” 

“ And I hope for nothing of the sort,” rejoined 
Basil. “ I long to have a crack at a grizzly ; and as 
“or Indians, I haven’t the least fear of them, so long 
IS I carry this.” 

As Basil made this remark, he drew out the little 
beaded case from his bosom, held it up a moment, 
and then returned it to its place again. 

“ Now, brother,” cried Fran9ois, “ tell us about 
that pouch, and how it is to save us from Indians. I 
am really curious to know.” 

“ Not now, my boy,” replied Basil, with a patron- 
izing air. “ Not now. We must prepare our supper, 
and get to sleep. We have lost half a day drying 
our rags ; so we must make up for it by an early start 
in the morning. Then for the prairies ! ” 

“ Then for .the prairies ! ” echoed Fran9ois — 
^,the prairies — the wild horses — the big horns -- 
and the buffalo ! ” 

11 


122 


THREE BUFFALOES WITH WIN08. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THREE BUFFALOES WITH WINGS. 

OtR travellers next morning resumed their journey 
and for several days continued on without meeting 
any incident worth recording. They crossed many 
large streams, among which may be mentioned the 
Neches and Trinity of Texas. 

On the “ divide,” between the Trinity and Brazos 
Rivers, an adventure befell them that came near 
having a painful result. 

In hot weather it was their custom to halt during 
the noon hours, both to refresh themselves and rest 
their animals. This is the custom of most travellers 
through these wild regions, and is called “ nooning.” 

With this intention, one day, they drew bridle by 
the edge of a tract of prairie, and dismounted. 
Behind them was the forest through which they had 
^\ust passed, and before them laid the prairie, which 
they intended to cross in the cool of the evening. 
The surface of the latter was quite level, covered 
with a green mantle of young buffalo grass, with 
here and there an island of low timber that broke the 
monotony of the view. In the distance a thick forest 
of live oak bounded the prairie on the other side , and 
ulthough the latter appeared only two or three mih^s 
distant, it was not less than ten — so deceptive is the 


THREE BUEFALOES WITH WINGS. 


123 


fmre atmosphere of these upland regions. The coun- 
try in which they now were was what is termed 
‘ timber prairie ; ” that is, a prairie interspersed 
with groves and copses. 

I say our adventurers had just dismounted, and 
were about to take off their saddles, when an ex- 
clamation from Fran9ois drew the attention of hi** 
brothers. 

“ Voild ! ” cried he, pointing out to the open 
ground. “ Buffaloes — buffaloes ! ” 

Basil and Lucien looked in the direction pointed 
out. Three large dark objects were seen on the 
crest of a low swell in the prairie. They were 
moving about ; and one was evidently smaller than 
the others. 

“ Of course they are buffaloes,” continued Fran- 
9ois. “ Look at their size 1 Two bulls and a cow, 
no doubt.” 

His brothers agreed with him. None of the three 
had ever seen buffaloes in their native wilderness ; 
and of course had but an indistinct idea of how they 
might appear from a distance. Buffaloes they must 
be — elk or deer would look red — wolves red or 
white ; and they could not be bears, as these last 
would not likely be out on the prairie in threes, un- 
less, indeed, they might be grizzly bears, who do 
sometimes go out into the open ground to dig for the 
“ pomme blanche ” and other roots. This, however 
was not probable, as the grizzly bears are seldom oi 
never found so far to the eastward. No. They were 
not grizzlies.” They were not wild horses neither 
that w as plain enough. Buffaloes, then, they must be 


124 . THREE BUFFALOES WITH WINGS. 

Like all who see buffaloes for the first time in iheh 
native pastures, our young hunters were filled with 
excitement — the more so, since to meet with these 
animals was the object of their expedition, of the long 
and perilous journey they had undertaken. 

A hurried consultation followed as to how they 
should capture these three. It was true that none 
of them was a white buffalo ; but no matter. Our 
hunters wanted to taste buffalo beef ; and the chase 
after these would give them practice, which might 
serve them afterwards. How, then, were they to set 
about it ? 

“ Why, run them, of course,” counselled the 
ready Fran9ois, with the air of an experienced 
buffalo hunter. 

Now, there are several methods of hunting buf- 
faloes, practised upon the praries, both by whites 
and Indians. The most common is that of which 
Franpois spoke — “ running.” This is done by simply 
overtaking the buffalo, galloping alongside of him, — 
the hunter, of course, being on horseback, — and 
shooting him through the heart while he runs. Shoot 
him in the region of the heart you must ; for you 
may put twenty bullets into his great body elsewhere, 
and he will still manage to get away from you. 
The hunters aim a little above the brisket, and behind 
the fore shoulder. The white hunters use the rifle, 
w sometimes a large pistol — which is better for the 
purpose, as they can load it more easily while going 
in a gallop. The Indians prefer the bow — as they 
ran shoot arrow after arrow in quick succession, thus 
slaying many b affaloes in a single “ run.” So expen 


THREi: BUFFALOES WITH WINGS. 


12S 


•re they with this weapon, that their arrows have 
beei. known to pierce through the bodies of large 
buffaloes, and pass clear out on the other side. A 
rimes the Indians use spears, with which they thrust 
the buffaloes, while galloping alongside of them. 

Another method of hunting these animals is termed 
“ approaching.” 

“ Approaching ” buffaloes is nothing else than 
cieeping stealthily on them until within range, when 
the hunter fires, often loads again and fires, and so 
on, until many of them are killed, before their com- 
panions take the alarm and scamper off. Indeed, 
the hunter will sometimes crawl up to a herd ; and, 
concealing himself behind the bodies of those he has 
already killed, fire away until many have fallen. In 
doing this, he takes care to keep to leeward ; for if 
otherwise, and these animals — who have much 
keener scent than sight — should happen to “ wind ” 
him, as it is termed, they are off in a moment. So 
keen is their scent, that they can detect an enemy to 
windward at the distance of a mile or more. In 
“ approaching,” the hunter sometimes disguises him- 
self in the skin of a wolf or deer ; when the buffa- 
loes, mistaking him for one of these animals, permit 
him to get within shooting distance. An Indian has 
been known to creep up in this manner into tho 
midst of a buffalo herd, and with his bow and arrows 
silently shoot one after another, until the whole herd 
lay prostrate. “ Approaching ” is sometimes a better 
method than “ running.” The hunter thus saves his 
borse, — often a jaded one, — ard is likely to kill a 
ifreater number of buffaloes, and get so many mora 
11 * 


126 


THREE BUFFALOES WITH WINGS. 


hides, if that be his object, as it sometimes is. Whea 
he is a traveller only, or a beaver trapper, who wants 
to get a buffalo for his dinner, and cares for no more 
than one, then “ running ” is the more certain mode 
of obtaining it. In this way, however, he can kill 
only one, or at most two or three ; for, while he is 
shooting these, and loading between times, the herd 
scatters, and runs out of his reach ; and his horse is 
apt to be too much “ blown ” to allow him to overtake 
them again. 

A third method of hunting buffaloes is the “ sur- 
round.” This is practised only by the Indians, as 
the white hunters of the prairies are rarely ever in 
such numbers as would enable them to effect a “ sur- 
round.” The name almost explains the nature of 
this hunt, which is practised as follows : When a 
band of Indian hunters discover a herd of buffaloes, 
they scatter and deploy into a circle around them. 
They soon accomplish this on their swift horses ; fo^ 
they are mounted, as all prairie hunters are sure to 
be, whether whites or Indians. As soon as the circle 
is formed, the Indians ride inward with loud yells, 
and drive the buffaloes into a thick clump in the 
centre. They then dash upon them with bows and 
lances — each hunter killing as many as he can. 
The buffaloes become confused, run to and fro, and 
^ but few of them in the end get off. A herd of hun- 
dreds, and even thousands, is sometimes slaughtered 
at one of these lattues. The Indians make this 
wholesale destruction for two objects; first, to get 
the meat, which they preserve by “jerking,” — that 
is, by cutting into thin strips and drying in the sun^ — 


THREK BnriALOES WITH WINGS. 13 *) 

and, secondly, for the skins, with which they cover 
their tents, make their beds and part of their clothing. 
Many of them they barter at the trad/ng houses of 
the whites, — established in remote regions for this 
purpose, — where they receive in exchange knives 
rifles, lead, powder, beads, and vermilion. 

Another method the Indians have of hunting the 
buffalo is not unlike the last, but is still more fearful 
to witness. 

Most of the region where the buffaloes range con- 
sists of high upland prairies, such as in Asia are 
called “ steppes,” and in Mexico and South Amenca 
“ mesas,” or “ table lands.” Such plains are ele- 
vated from three to six thousand feet above the level 
of the sea. In'^ many places on these table lands 
mere are deep refts called “ canons,” or more prop- 
erly “ barrancas,” that have probably been formed 
by running water during rain storms. These are 
often dry, and look like vast fissures opening down 
into the earth, often for a thousand feet or more 
and extending away for scores of miles across the 
prairie. Sometimes two of them intersect each other 
forming a triangular space or peninsula between* 
and the traveller, on reaching this point, is obliged to 
turn back, as he finds himself almost encircled by 
precipices yawning downward into the earth. When- 
ever the Indians get a herd of buffaloes near one of 
these canons, they surround them on three sides, and 
guide them towards the precipice ; and when tiiey 
are near enough, gallop forward with wild shouts, 
causing the buffaloes to dash madly and blindly ovei. 
A whole herd will sometimes leap a precipice in this 


128 


THREE BUFFALOES WITH WINGS. 


Tv^ay — those in the front being forced over by the 
others, and these, in turn, pressed either to take the 
leap or be thrust by the spears of the pursuing 
horsemen. Sometimes, when the Indians are not in 
sufficient numbers to make a “ surround ” of buffalo, 
they collect buffalo chips, and build them in little 
piles, so as to represent men. These piles are placed 
in two rows, gradually converging towards each oth< 
er, and leading to one of the afore-mentioned bluffs. 
Between these two rows they drive the buffaloes, 
that, mistaking the piles of their own “ chips ” for 
Indians, are guided onwards to the edge of the preci- 
pice, when the hunters make their noisy rush, and 
force them over. ~~ 

There are other methods of buffalo hunting, such 
as pursuing them in the snow, when the hunters in 
their snowshoes easily overtake and slaughter them. 
Some Mexican buffalo hunters (in the southern prai 
ries called “ ciboleros ”) capture the buffalo with the 
lasso ; but this method is not often practised, except 
when they wish to catch the young calves alive for 
the purpose of raising them. 

Now, all these methods were familiar to our three 
young hunters, — that is, familiar from descriptions, — 
as they had often heard about them from old trappers 
who came down among the settlements of Louisiana, 
and who sometimes spent the night under their fa- 
ther’s roof ; for the colonel liked very much to en- 
tertain these old trappers, and get a talk out ( f them. 
It was from this source, then, that Franfois derived 
his ideas of buffalo hunting, which led him, in the pride 
of his knowledge, to exclaim, “ Run them, of course.’’ 


THKEE BUFFALOES WITH WINGS. 


129 


Basil and Lucien took a little time to consider it, 
all the while keeping their eyes fixed upon the three 
buffaloes. There was just one apiece, which they 
could separate and run down ; they were far from 
any cover, and it might, therefore, be difficult to 
“ approach ” them ; moreover, the horses were fresh, 
for the day before had been Sunday, and our adven- 
turers had always made it a rule to lie by on that 
day, to rest both themselves and their animals. This 
they did in accordance with a command given to 
them by their father at starting. All things consid- 
ered, then, “ running ” was the best plan, and it was 
the one they resolved to adopt. 

Jeannette was tied to a tree, and left behind with 
her packs, that had not yet been taken off. Marengo, 
off course, was taken along with them, as he might 
prove useful in pulling down one of the old bulls, if 
wounded. Every thing that might encumber the 
hunters was left with Jeannette ; and all three rode 
out upon the prairie, and made direct for the ani- 
mals. It was agreed that each should choose one 
of them, and then do his best with gun and pistols. 
Fran9ois had put buck shot into both barrels, and 
was full of confidence that he was about to “ throw ” 
his first buffalo. 

As they drew nearer, a lustrous appearance upon 
the bodies of the strange animals attracted their 
attention. Were they buffaloes, after all ? 

The brothers rode quietly onward, observing them 
with attention. No, buffaloes they were not. The 
rough, shaggy bodies of these would not shine so, fot 


I 


130 


THREE BUFFALOES WITH WINGS. 


they glittered in the sun as they moved about. Buf 
faloes they could not be. 

“ That they are not,” said Lucien, after a deliber- 
ate look through his fingers. 

“ What are they, then ? ” inquired Fran 9 ois. 

“ Listen ! ” replied Lucien ; “ do you hear that ? ” 
All three had drawn bridle. A loud “ gohhle — 
ohhle — obble ” proceeded from the animals, evidently 
uttered by some one of the three. 

“ As I live,” exclaimed Fran 9 ois, “ that’s the gob* 
ble of an old turkey cock ! ” 

“ Neither more nor less,” replied Lucien, with a 
smile. “ They are turkeys ! ” 

“ Turkeys ! ” echoed Basil ; “ turkeys taken for 
buffaloes ! What a grand deception ! ” 

And all three at first looked very blank at each 
other, and then commenced laughing heartily at the 
mistake they had made. 

“We must never tell of this,” said Basil; “we 
should be laughed at, I reckon.” 

“ Not a bit of it,” rejoined Lucien ; “ such mis- 
takes are often made, even by old travellers on the 
prairies. It is an atmospheric illusion very ommon. 
I have heard of a worse case than ours — a raven 
having been taken for a buffalo.” 

“ When we meet with buffaloes, then, 1 suppose 
W8 shall mistake them for mammoths,” renrjarked 
Fran 9 ois ; and the disappointed hunters now turnea 
their attention to the capturing of birds, instead of 
bufialoes. 


A WILD-TURKEY HUNT. 


Ill 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A WILD-TURKEY HUNT 

Come on,” cried Basil, putting the spur to hii 
horse, and riding forward. “ Come on ! It isn't so 
bad a case, after all — a good fat turkey for dinner, 
eh ? Come on ! ” 

“ Stay, brother,” said Lucien ; “ how are we to ge^ 
near them ? They are out on the open ground - • 
there is no cover.” 

“ We don’t want cover. We can ‘ run’ them, as 
we were about to do had they been buffaloes.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” laughed Fran5ois ; “ run a turkey ! 
Why, it will fly off at once. What nonsense you 
talk, brother ! ” 

“ I tell you, no,” replied Basil. “ It is not non- 
sense — it can be done. I have often heard so from 
the trappers ; now let us try it ourselves.” 

“Agreed, then,” said Fran9ois and Lucien at 
once ; and all three rode forward together. 

W'hen they had got near enough to distinguish the 
forms of the birds, they saw they were two old “ gob- 
b.ers ” and a hen. The gobblers were strutting about, 
with their tails spread like fans, and their wings trail- 
mg along the grass. Every now and then they ut- 
tered their loud “ gobble — obble — obble ; ” and, by 
their attitude and actions, it was evidently an afTaii 


1^2 A WILB-TURKEY 

of rivaliy likely to end in a battle. The femal€ 
stalked over the grass in a qaiet but coquettish way, 
no doubt fully aware of the warm interest she waa 
exciting in the breasts of the belligerent gobblers. 
She was much smaller than either of these, and fai 
less brilliant in plumage. The males appeared very 
bright indeed, — almost equal to a pair of peacocks, 
— and as their glossy backs glanced in the sun with 
metallic lustre, our hunters thought they ha 1 never 
before seen such beautiful birds. 

Taken up with their own quarrel, they would, no 
doubt, have allowed the hunters to get within shoot- 
ing distance of them. The female, however, was 
upon the alert; and seeing these draw near, she 
raised her head with a loud “ tweet,” which attracted 
the attention of her companions. In a moment their 
spread tails closed and came to the ground, their 
wings were shut up, and their long necks stretched 
into the air. Their forms underwent a complete 
change, and they now stood erect upon the prairie, 
each of them full five feet in height ! 

“ Beautiful creatures ! ” exclaimed Lucien. 

“ Yes,” muttered Basil. “ They will not give us 
much longer time, though. We had best make a 
dash. Take you the hen. Luce ; your horse is the 
slowest. Now for it. Fo^ ward ! ” 

All three spurred their horses, and dashed forward 
together, Marengo leading the chase. In a moment 
they were within a hundred yards or so of the tur- 
keys. The latter, thus suddenly set upon, ran a few 
paces, and then rose into the air with a loud flapping 
of their wings. They took different directicns, con- 


A WILD-TURKEY HUNT. 


133 


fused l)y being sprung in such haste. Each of the 
boys had selected the one he intended pursuing, and 
upon that one alone his eyes became fixed. Basi 
j»nd Fran9ois followed the gobblers, while Lucien 
rode at a quiet gallop after the hen. 

Marengo, of course, took part in the chase, joining 
in with Lucien, whether because he deemed the hen 
to be “ sweeter meat,” or that she was likely to be 
the easiest caught of the three. 

She did not fly far before coming to the ground 
again, when she ran with all her might for the near- 
est clump of timber. Hither Lucien followed, Ma- 
rengo leading the way, and occasionally uttering a 
sonorous yelp as he ran. As Lucien entered the 
timber, he saw the dog* standing by the root of a 
large oak. He had “ treed ” the turkey, and was 
ooking upward with glancing eyes, barking and wag 
ging his tail. Lucien rode cautiously under the tree, 
where he perceived the turkey crouching among the 
moss, upon one of its highest branches. His rifle 
was up to his shoulder in a moment ; and after the 
crack, the bird was heard tumbling and fluttering 
through the leaves. Marengo sprang upon it as it 
came to the ground ; but his master, leaping from his 
horse, scolded him off, and took up the game, which 
was found to be quite dead. 

Lucien now remounted ; and as he rode out into 
jie open ground, he could see Basil far off upon the 
prairies. He was going at full gallop ; and the gob- 
bler, with outspread wings, was seen some distance 
jihead of him, running like an ostrich ! Both Basil 
»nd gobbler soon disappeared to his view, lost behind 
12 


134 


A wild-tcrkey hunt. 


one of the timber islets. Lucien looked for Fran, 
pois. The latter was nowhere to be seen, having 
pursued his gobbler in a direction where the groves 
ware more thickly studded over the prairie. Think- 
ing it would be of no use to follow either of them, 
Lucien rode slowly back to where Jeannette had 
been left upon the edge of the forest. Here he 
lismounted, and sat down to await the return of his 
yrothers. 

Basil’s chase proved a longer one than he had 
expected. He had chosen the biggest of the birds, 
and, no doubt, the strongest and toughest. His gob- 
bler, at the first flight, made a clear stretch of nearly 
a mile ; and when he alighted again, ran like a scared 
cat. But Basil was not to be discouraged, and, keep- 
ing the spurs well to his horse, soon gained upon him. 
The turkey again took to his wings, dropping down 
another half mile in the advance. Again Basil gal- 
loped up ; and once more the old cock rose into 
the air, this time flying only about a hundred yards 
before he alighted. Basil was soon up to him with 
his fleet horse ; but the gobbler was now unable to 
fly any farther. He could run, however, at a good 
rate ; and where there was an uphill in the prairie, 
he ran faster than the horse. Downhill, the latter 
gained upon him ; and thus they went, until the bird 
began to double and circle about, showing all the 
symptoms of weariness. Several times the horse ran 
over him, the turkey, on these occasions, turning and 
taking the back track. 

The chase was prolonged for a considerable time. 
The bird, at length, became completely exhausted 


A WILD-TURKEy HUNT. 


135 


And squatting down, thrust his head and long neck 
amoig the weeds, like the ostrich, thinking himself 
thus hidden from his pursuer. Basil now drew hia 
horse’s rein, raised his long rifle, and, the next mo- 
ment, a bullet passed through the gobbler, and 
stretched him dead upon the grass. 

Basil then dismounted, and taking up the turkey, 
tied its legs to the cantle of his saddle. This required 
all Basil’s strength, for the bird was one of the largest 
size — a forty pounder. 

As soon as the hunter had made all fast, he leaped 
back into his saddle, and commenced riding — where ? 
Ay, that was the question which he asked himself 
before his horse had advanced three lengths of his 
oody — where was he going. All at once the thought 
came into his mind that he was lost ! Groves of tim- 
ber were on all sides of him. They were like each 
other ; or if they differed, he had not, in his wild 
gallop, noted that difference, and it could not serve 
to direct him now. He had not the slightest idea 
of the point whence he had come, and therefore 
knew not in what direction to go. He saw and felt 
that he teas lost ! 

My young reader, you cannot conceive the thoughts 
that come over one who is lost upon the prairies. 
Such a situation has appalled the stoutest hearts, ere 
now. Strong men have trembled at feeling them- 
selves thus alone in the wilderness ; and well might 
they, for they knew that the consequence has often 
been death. The shipwrecked marinei, in his open 
boat, is scarcely worse off than the lost traveller upon 
ihe prairie sea ; and many, under the circumstances 


136 


A WILD-TURKEY HUNT. 


nave gone mad ! Fancy, then, the feelings of the 
ooy Basil. 

I have already said, he was a cool and courageous 
lad. He was so, and proved it now. He did not 
lose presence of mind. He reined in his horse, and 
surveyed the prairie around him with an intelligent 
eye. It was all to no purpose. He saw nothing that 
would give him a clew to the spot where he had 
separated from his brothers. He shouted aloud, but 
there was nerther echo nor answer. He fired off his 
rifle, and listened, thinking Lucien or Fran9ois might 
reply by a similar signal ; but no such signal grati- 
fied his ear. He reloaded, and sat for a while in his 
saddle, buried in thought. 

“ Ha ! I have it ! ” he exclaimed, suddenly raising 
himself in his stirrups. “ Why was I so stupid ? 
Come, Black Hawk, we are not lost yet.” 

Basil had not been all his lifd a hunter for nothing , 
and although he had but little experience upon the 
prairies, his wood craft now stood him in stead. The 
thought which had so suddenly occurred to him was 
a good one, the only one that could with certainty 
save him — he had resolved to return upon his own 
tracks. 

He wheeled his horse, and, with eyes bent upon 
the ground, rode slowly along. The turf was firm, 
and the hoof marks were not deep ; but Basil had a 
hunter’s eye, and could follow the track of a fawn. 
In a few minutes he arrived on the spot where he 
iKid killed the turkey. The blood and feathers upon 
the grass made him sure of this. Here he halted a 
moment, until he could determine the direction in 


A WILD-TURKEY HUNT. 


137 


irhich he had approached this spot. That was at 
.ength resolved to his satisfaction, and he rode slowly 
in the back track. After a few lengths of his horse 
had been passed over, the trail doubled. Basil fol- 
lowed the double, and came back, passing almost over 
the same ground again. Again it doubled as before, 
ana again, and again, without going a hundred yards 
from the place where the bird had been shot. All 
these turnings the young hunter retraced with the 
greatest care and patience. In this he showed his 
judgment and his knowledge of hunter craft : for had 
he grown impatient, and taken a wider range to find 
the trail, he might have fallen upon his last- made 
tracks, and thus have brought himself into a regular 
maze. 

After a while, the circles in which he travelled 
became larger ; and, to his great joy, he at length 
found himself advancing in a straight line. Many 
horse tracks crossed his trail, some of them nearly as 
fresh as his own. These did not baffle him ; they 
were the tracks of mustangs ; and although Black 
Hawk was not shod any more than they, his rider 
knew the print of the latter’s hoof as well as he knew 
the appearance of his own rifle. The Arab’s track 
was considerably larger than those of the wild horses. 

After following the trail backward for nearly an 
hour, — his eyes all the time bent upon the ground, 
— he was suddenly startled by a voice calling him 
by name. He looked up, and beheld Lucien by the 
edge of the woods. With a shout of joy, he plied 
.the spur and rode forward. As he drew near, how- 
ever, his feeling of joy became one of painful appre- 
12 * 


138 


A WILD-TURKEY HUNT. 


hension. There was Lucien ; there were Jeannette 
and Marengo ; — hut where was Francois 1 

“ Where is Franpois ? ” inquired Lucien, as Basil 
rode up. 

The latter could hardly speak, so strong were his 
emotions. 

“ O brother ! ” he faltered out at length, “ has 
Franpois not returned } ” 

“ No,” answered Lucien ; “ I was thinking he was 
with you, and you would come back together. 1 
have been wondering what could have detained you 
so long.” 

“ O God ! he is lost ! ” cried Basil, breaking into 
an agony of grief. “ Lucien ! Lucien ! our brother 
is lost ! ” 

“ Lost ! what mean you } ” asked Lucien, half 
believing that Fran 9 ois had been attacked by Indians 
or some wild animal, and that that was what Basil 
meant. “ Has any thing happened to him } Speak, 
Basil ! ” 

“ No, no ! ” replied Basil, still speaking wildly , 
“ lost on the prairie ! O brother, you know not what 
it is — it is a fearful thing. I have been lost — I 
have got back ; but Fran 9 ois — poor little Fran 9 ois ! 
— there is no hope for him ! He is lost — lost ! ” 

“ But have you not seen him since we all three 
parted ” inquired Lucien, in dismay. 

‘ No, not since we parted. I was myself lost, and 
have been all this time finding my way. I succeeded 
by following back my own trail, else we might nevei 
have met again. O Fran 9 ois ! — poor bro :her Fran 
9 ois ! — what will become of him 7 ” 


A WILD- TURKEY HUNT. 


139 


Lucien now shared the apptehensioiis, as well as 
Jie agony, of his brother. Up to this time, he had 
l)een under the impression that they had got together, 
and something had detained them, — perhaps the 
breaking of a stirrup leather or a girth, he knew not 
what, — and he was just beginning to grow uneasy 
when Basil made his appearance. He knew not what 
V. was to be lost ; but Basil’s wild explanations ena- 
bled him to conceive what it might he ; and he could 
well appreciate the situation of Francois. It was nc 
time, however, to indulge in paroxysms of grief. He 
saw that Basil was half unmanned ; the more so, be- 
cause the latter looked upon himself as the cause of 
the misfortune. It was Basil who had counselled the 
running of the turkeys, and led on to the chase. 

Instead of giving way to despair, however, both felt 
that they must take some steps for the recovery of 
their lost brother. 

“ What is to be done ” said Lucien. 

Basil now became himself again. The hope ot 
saving Fran9ois restored him to his wonted energy 
and courage. 

“ Is it better we should remain here ? ” asked Lu- 
cien, who knew that his brother’s strong judgment 
wouM decide upon the best plan. 

“ No,” replied the latter; “ it is of no use. I could 
not have found my way back but for the tracks of 
my horse. Fran9ois will not think of that ; and even 
if he did, his horse is a mustangs and the prairie is 
covered with mustang tracks, running in every direc- 
tion. No, no ; he will never come uack here except 
by chance, and there are a tliousand chances to one 


140 


A WILD-TURKEY HUNT. 


against No, we must go in search of him ; we 
must go upon his trail ; and that, I fear, will be im- 
possible among so many others. Before ^ve leave 
this place,” continued Basil, “ let us try eveiy chance 
that is left. Are you loaded ? ” 

“ Yes,” replied Lucien. 

“ Fire, then, a moment or two after I do. The 
first report may call his attention to the second.” 

Basil raised his piece, and fired into the air. A few 
seconds after, Lucien fired also ; and both stood to 
listen, their hearts beating audibly. 

For five minutes or moie they stood, so that 
Fran9ois might have time to load his gun, if empty. 
There was no response. 

Again the brothers loaded their rifles, — with pow- 
der only, — putting in heavy charges, and ramming 
Home tightly, in order that the explosions might be 
the louder. Again they fired as before. The result 
was the same ; there was no answer to their signal. 

“ It proves that he is very distant,” said Lucien ; 
“ for sounds can be heard a great way oflT in this 
region.” 

“ Let us try a smoke,” said Basil, putting away his 
rifle. “ Gather some wood. Luce, while I kindle the 
leaves.” 

Basil picked up some piecev cf the burning wad, 
and having taken it out to the open ground, raked 
together a pile of dry leaves and grass, and ignited it. 
Meanwhile, Lucien collected an armful of sticks, and 
placed them upon the pile. Others were then thrown 
on top, with green leaves and boughs broken from the 
trees, and, over all, several armfuls of Spanish moss, 


A WILD-TURKEY HUNT. 


U1 

wnich hung plentifully from the oaks. A thick blue 
Binoke soon ascended high into the heavens ; and the 
brothers stood with searching eyes that scrutinized 
ihe prairie in all directions. 

“ He must be far off, if he cannot see that,” re- 
marked Lucien. “ It should be visible for ten miles 
around, I should think.” 

“ At least that much,” answered Basil ; “ but he 
would not be long in getting ten miles away. The 
chase might have carried him a good part ; and find 
ing himself lost, he would soon gallop the rest.” 

“ Unless,” suggested Lucien, “ he may have ridden 
about, as you did, upon his own trail.” 

“ No, he would not be likely. Poor little Fran9ois 
would not think of it ; he has not enough craft for 
that; and, indeed, I almost hope that he has not 
done so.” 

“ Why do you hope so ? ” inquired Lucien. 

“ Because we will stand a better chance of making 
out his trail, if he has gone straight forward.” 

“ True, true,” rejoined Lucien ; and both again 
were silent, and stood watching the prairie openings 
with anxious eyes. 

They remained for a considerable time, but at 
'ength turned to each other with countenances that 
exhibited a disappointed and sad expression. 

“ He is not coming,” said Lucien, in a sorrowful, 
tone. 

“ No ; he would have been up long since. He 
would be certain to gallop if he had seen the smoke. 
We must go after him.” 


142 A WILD-TURKEY HUNT. 

They turned towards their horses. Basil’s glance 
fell upon the dog. A gleam of joy shot into his eye 
and his whole bearing became suddenly changed. 

“ Ha ! ” he exclaimed, “ we have been wasting 
time. Quick, Lucien ! — your horse ! to your 
horse ! ” 

“ What is it ? ” asked Lucien, in surprise. 

“ Do not ask me — a good thought strikes me ; but 
we have not a moment to lose — time is precious. 
Let us be olF ! ” 

“ But shall we leave Jeannette ? ” 

“ By all means. Fran9ois might come up.” 

“ If he should, how is he to know where we are 
gone ? ” 

“ True,” answered Basil, reflecting a moment 
“ O,” he continued, “ give me your paper and pen 
cil. You tie Jeannette while I write.” 

Lucien handed him a small slip of paper with a 
pencil, and then proceeded to tie the mule securely 
to one of the branches. 

Basil took the paper, and wrote, — 

“ Franpois^ we are gone upon your trail. Stay hy 
Jeannette.'^'* 

He fastened the paper conspicuously to the trunk 
of a tree, and then, seizing his rifle and leaping 
into the saddle, called upon Lucien to follow him. 

Lucien mounted, and rode after, while the doj^ 
Marengo trotted in the rear. 


TRAILING WITH A BLOODHOUND. 


149 


CHAPTER XV. 

TEAILING WITH A BLOODHOUND. 

They rode in a direct line to the spot wLeie they 
nad started in pursuit of the turkeys. From this 
place F ran9ois had taken to the left ; but there were 
many tracks leading in the same direction — of 
horses, too, that had galloped. 

“ As I told you, brother,” remarked Basil, “ we 
could never have followed his trail by the tracks. 
Even here we are not certain of it. These must be 
his, though — they look a little fresher than the others. 
Let us try them. Marengo ! ” 

“ Stay, brother ! ” interrupted Lucien. “ The last 
place I saw Francois was yonder. I caught a glimpse 
of him passing round that point of timber.” 

“ Ha ! that is better. Perhaps there his tracks 
may be separate from the others. Come on ! ” 

They rode about a hundred paces farthe., wlruc-i 
brought them to the point of timber indicated by 
Lucien. 

“ Yes,” exclaimed Basil, “ you are right ! He ha* 
passed here. There are his tracks distinctly.” 

Basil dismounted, giving Lucien his rein. He 
knelt upon the grass, and examined the hoof prints, 
one after the other, with extreme care. 

“ So ! ” he muttered, as he rose again to his feel, 
- I shall know you among a thousand.” 


144 


TRAILING WITH A BLOODHOUNL 


“ Make yourself ready for a hard ride,” he con 
tinued, addressing Lucien. “ The dog, no doubt^ 
will lead us in a gallop. Marengo ! ” 

The hound came running up to where the young 
hunter was stooping over the trail. The latter held 
a red object in his arms. It was Fran9ois’ blanket, 
which he had loosed from his horse’s flank, and flung 
away when starting on the chase. The dog scented 
ihe blanket, uttering as he did so a low whimper, 
and gazing in his master’s face with a look of intel- 
ligence. He seemed to comprehend what was re- 
quired of him. 

Basil now flung the blanket over his own saddle 
stooped again, drew his fingers plong the grass, and, 
with a wave of his hand, motioned Marengo to fol- 
low its direction. The hound, uttering a single yelp, 
bent his nose to the ground, and sprang forward upon 
the trail. 

Basil instantly leaped into his saddle.^ and, snatch 
ing up the reins, cried out to his brother, — 

“ Come, Lucien ! we must not lose sight of th€ 
dog, though our horses drop dead in their tracks i 
All depends upon keeping him in view.” 

Both plied the spur, and dashed forward at a 
gallop. 

“We must know how to find our way back again.’ 
said Basil, reining up, as they passed the edge of 
one of the timber clumps. “We must not ourselves 
get lost ; ” and, as he said this, he crashed the branch 
of a tree, until the broken end hung dangling down, 
ward. He then resumed his gallop. 

For nearly a mile the hound ran in a direct line 


TRAILING WITH A BLOODHOUND. 


145 


(l was the first flight of the turkey. His course then 
altered, although not a great deal, and carried him 
half a mile or so in a direct line, as before. 

“ The second flight,” remarked Basil to his brother, 
as both followed at a loose gallop, now with their 
eyes anxiously watching the dog, and now halting a 
moment by some conspicuous tree to “ blaze ” their 
hy breaking one of its branches. 

The dog at length entered a copse. 

“ Ha ! ” exclaimed Basil, “ Fran9ois has killed his 
turkey there. No,” he continued, as the hound 
shot out of the copse again, and struck off into the 
open plain — “ no. It has sought shelter there, but 
it has been run out again, and gone farther.” 

Marengo now led in a direct line for several hun- 
dred paces ; when, all at once, he began to double 
and run in circling courses over the prairie. 

“ Draw up, Lucien, draw up ! ” cried Basil, as he 
pulled upon his bridle rein. “ I know what that 
means. Do not ride upon the track — you may baffle 
him — leave him to himself.” 

In a few seconds the hound stopped, uttered a short 
howl, and appeared to toss a dark object upon the 
grass with his snout. Basil and Lucien had halted at 
a considerable distance, but they could see that the 
object was some loose feathers. 

“ The spot, beyond doubt, where Francois haa 
stilled the turkey,” muttered Basil. “ If Marengo 
:an only catch the trail by which he rode off, all may 
f)e well ; but — that — that — see ! he is off again ! ” 

Now was the time that Basil and Lucien watched 
with beating hearts. They knew that a crisis was 
13 J 


14G 


TRAILING WITH A BLOODHOUND 


at hand. If Marengo, as Basil said, could find 
Francois’ departing trail, then he could follow it up 
alnjost to a certainty. Of this both the brothers 
were confiden!, as they knew the capabilities of the 
leg. But that was the point to be decided ; and both 
felt for the moment as if the life of their brother 
hung upon its decision. No wonder, then, that they 
watched every manoeuvre of the hound with breath- 
less anxiety, while they sat, motionless and silent, in 
their saddles. 

The hound, after a while, ran off from the feathers, 
and was seen once more to double and circle over 
the ground. He did not go freely. He was evi- 
dently baffled by so many trails approaching and 
crossing each other. Again he came back to the spot 
where the turkey had been killed, and there paused 
with a howl of disappointment ! 

Basil and his brother uttered a simultaneous excla- 
mation, that betokened painful feelings. They knew 
that the how. was a bad sign ; but neither spoke. 

Once more the dog ran off, and, as before, turned 
and wheeled about upon the prairie. 

“ O God ! ” exclaimed Basil, in agony, “ he is 
coming on the old track ! ” 

It was too true ; for the next moment the hound, 
running on the back track, bounded in among the 
feet of their horses. Here he stopped suddenly, 
throwing his head, and uttering another howl of 
disappointment. 

Basil waved him back. He struck out again, and 
followed the old trail, but with like success. He then 
became confused, and ran every way over the ground 


TRAIL [NG WITH A BLOODHOUND. 


14 ^ 


BViilinitly baffled. The brothers regarded each othei 
with looks of dismay. The trail was lost I 

“Hold! There is hope yet,” said Basil. We 
may find it by making a wider circuit. Take my 
bridle,” continued he, throwing himself from hia 
horse. “ Marengo ! — up, Marengo ! ” 

The dog obeyed the call, uttered in accents of 
command, and came running up to the feet of hia 
master. The latter, telling Lucien to follow with the 
horses, struck off over the prairie. 

He walked slowly, bent forward and downward, 
carefully observing the ground as he went. He 
followed the circumference of an irregular circle, of 
wide diameter, in order to keep outside the doublings 
which Fran9ois had made in his last struggle after 
the wearied bird, and which had thrown the dog out. 
He passed several horse trails leading various ways. 
All these he examined, but none satisfied him. In 
this manner he had gone half a mile around the 
circle, when his eye fell upon some that seemed 
fresher than the rest. He sprang forward, stooping 
over them with a shout of joy, as he lecognized the 
hoof prints of Fran9ois’ mustang. He knew them 
by a mark he had taken — where the dog had been 
first set upon the trail — a small chip broken from 
one of the fore hoofs. But Marengo needed not this. 
He was once more on the right scent, and again 
started off, nose down, over the prairie. 

Basil leaped ‘nto his saddle ; and, waving his 
brother to follow, galloped after, riding close upon 
the heels of the hound. 

The trail did not lead in a direct line. At some 


148 


TRAILING WITH A BLOODHOLND. 


places it did so for several Hundred yards; then il 
would turn suddenly to the right or left, then turn 
Again and again in zigzag lines. Sometimes il 
described the circumference of a circle, and at one 
or two points it recrossed itself. At these places the 
dog was once or twice nearly baffled again. 

They well knew the reason why the trail thiw 
meandered about. Poor Fran9ois had been wander- 
ing, and knew not which way to go. 

Once more the trail ran direct for a distance of 
two miles or more. No doubt Fran9ois had there 
kept up his resolution, and ridden straight forward ; 
but, as Basil remarked, he had been travelling all 
the time with his back to their camp! Over this 
part, as the trail was fresh, the hound ran rapidly, 
keeping the hunters at a brisk gallop. At the end 
of the stretch it again turned to the right and west- 
ward. 

As they faced in this direction, the attention of 
the brothers was called to the sky. The sun was 
setting ! 

A new feeling of apprehension came over them. 
They knew there was no twilight, or next to none, on 
these high southern plateaux. Should it come on a 
dark night, how were they to follow the dog, going 
as he was upon a run.? He might still keep the 
trail, and come up with Fran9ois ; but whet would be 
the good of that, so long as they were not with him > 
It would only give Fran9ois another com[, anion in hia 
misery, but no clew by which he would be enabled 
’o find ihem^ or they him. 

These thoughts were communicated between lh« 


TRAILING WITH A BLOODHOUND. 


]49 


iwo as they galloped on side by side. Soon the 
§un set, and the shades of twilight fell upon the 
grass. Il grew darker, until it was difficult to dis- 
tinguish the dusky body of the hound passing ovei 
the sward. What was to be done ? He would soon 
glide away from them, and leave them without a 
guide ! 

“ I have it ! ” suddenly exclaimed Basil ; and at 
the words he spurred his horse forward to overtake 
Marengo. The next mDment he flung himself from 
the saddle ; and, seizing the hound, arrested him in 
his tracks. 

“ Alight, brother ! ” he cried ; “ alight, and help 
me. Off* with your shirt ; it is whiter than mine.” 

Lucien, half comprehending his design, imme- 
diately pulled off his blouse, and after that his shirt, 
which was of bleached cotton cloth, lightly striped, 
and in the dim light showed nearly white. Basil 
took hold of it, and hurriedly tore off the sleeves. 
He then drew it upon the dog ; and having passed 
the animal’s fore feet through the arm holes, tied the 
collar securely around his throat with a piece of 
thong, and knotted the skirts over the flanks behind. 
Thus arrayed, Marengo looked like a street monkey; 
and was rendered quite visible in the glimmering 
darkness. 

“ Now ! ” cried Basil, exultingly, “ we can fol.ow 
him if it were as dark as pitch.” 

“ Stay a moment,” said Lucien ; “ let us make sure, 
h is clear enough — I can write yet.” As Lucien 
•aid this, he took out his note book, and wrote, — 

“ FranfoiSy come hack on your own trail. You 
13 * 


150 


TBAi^ ING WITH A BLOODHOUND 


will find US upon it. If you cannot follow let 
Marengo gmde you.'*’* 

Ho tore out the leaf, handing it to Basil, wh« 
fastened it securely to the shirt. 

Marengo was again set loose, and took to the trail, 
while both mounted hastily and followed him. 

Fortunately, the night did not turn out so dark as 
they had anticipated; and they could see the white 
covering with sufficient distinctness to enable them 
to follow it, even at a gallop. And thus they rode 
for nearly another hour — Basil still blazing their 
trail as they swept past the timber islets. 

All at once, as they rounded a thick grove, a bright 
object glistened before their eyes. It was a blazing 
fire under the shadow of some tall trees ! Marengo 
made straight for it. Fearing it might be an en- 
campment of Indians, Basil galloped forward, and, 
alighting from his horse, intercepted the dog. A 
halt was made to determine what was best to be 
done. At that moment the fire blazed up, and a 
spotted obiect was seen near it. Hurrah ! It was 
Fran9ois’ mustang ! Basil and Lucien now advanced 
rapidly, and, to their great joy, beheld Fran9ois 
sitting by the fire, holding something over the blaze. 
The next moment the brothers were in each other’s 
arms, all three weeping with joy as they embraced ! 

Fran 9 ois soon related his adventures. He had 
killed his turkey, and then lost himself ; but instead 
of going back upon his own trail, as Basil had done, 
he had wandered about until nightfall, at intervals 
shouting and firing his gun. At times his spirit 
failed him ; and he rode for long stretches without 


TRAILING WITH A BLOODHOUND. 


151 


touching the bridle, or in any way guiding his horse 
Wearied at length, he dismounted, and tied the animal 
to a tree. It was night when he did so ; and, feeling 
cold and hungry, he took courage and kindled a fire. 
Fortunately, the gobbler still hung from the cantle 
of his saddle ; and he had just singed, and was 
roasting it over the fire, when so agreeably inter- 
rupted by the approach of his brothers. At sight 
of the fine broiling turkey, Basil and Lucien became 
as hungry as a pair of wolves ; for, in consequence 
of their anxiety, they had not thought of dining 
The roast was soon ready ; and, after a plentiful 
supper, — which Marengo shared, — the young hunters 
staked their horses upon the grass, wrapped them- 
selveF in their blankets, and went to sleep. 


JEANNETTE &.ND THE JAVALIES. 


\b2 

V 


CHAPTER XVI. 

JEANNETTE AND THE JAVALIES. 

Next morning they were astir at an early hour 
and, after giving the remains of the gobbler a hurried 
“ devilling,” they ate them, and rode off on the hack 
trail. They did not put the dog upon it to guide 
them, as the scent was now cold, and they feared 
that Marengo, keen as he was, might get astray upon 
It. They trusted to find it from their own tracks, and 
the “ blazes ” they had made. It was a slow process, 
and they were obliged to make frequent halts ; but it 
was a sure one, and they preferred it on that ac- 
count, as they knew the importance of getting back 
to Jeannette. The tent, with all their provisions and 
implements, was in her keeping. 

They were in high spirits, — as most people are 
who have just escaped from a perilous adventure, — 
and joked each other as they rode along. Lucien 
was without a shirt ; for Marengo had torn it, and it 
was now draggled, wet, and worthless. This was a 
staple joke for Fran9ois. Jeannette came in for a 
share of their badinage, as Lucien now remembered 
that he had tied her head within a foot of the tree, and 
of course she would be all this time without eating a 
morsel. Moreover, in their hurry, the pack had been 
left upon her back ; and that was not likely to im 
nrove her iemper 


JEANNETTE AND THE JAVALIES. 


153 


It 'vas near midday when they came within sight 
of her. 

“ Hilloa ! ” exclaimed Fran9ois, who first caught a 
glimpse of her round a point of timber. “ What ’s 
going on yonder > ” 

All three halted, and looked across the plain with 
astonishment depicted in their faces ; and no wonder, 
for a sight it was to astonish any body. It was 
Jeannette, to be sure ; but Jeannette in most singular 
attitudes. Her heels were flying in the air — now 
her fore feet, now her hind ones — not in single 
flings, but in constant and rapid kicking. Some 
times the whole set appeared to bounce up at once ; 
and the white canvas of the tent, which had get 
loosened, was flapping up and down, as her body 
rose and fell. 

The boys looked on for a moment, with feelings 
of curiosity not unmingled with fear. “ It might be 
Indians,” thought they. 

“ No,” said Basil. “ It is wolves — she is attacked 
by wolves ! Let us hasten to her rescue ! ” 

All three spurred their horses into a gallop, and 
soon got within a few hundred yards. They could 
now see the ground by the mule’s feet, which was 
covered, not with wolves, but with animals of a far 
different species. They were hog-shaped, with small, 
dark bodies, and long, pointed snouts. They had no 
tails — only knobs in their place ; and thei^ Napering 
snouts opened into a pair of long jaws, wim white 
tusks, that could be seen even in the distance. 

“ J ivalies ! ” cried Lucien, who, although he had 
never seen the animal, knew them from description 


i54 


JEANNETTE AND THE JAVALIES. 


JaTaliea they were in fact — the wild hogs of 
Mexico. 

All three had pulled up, as soon as they saw the 
ani/nals were not wolves. They did not halt long, 
for Jeannette was in danger. She was still kicking 
and squealing like a cat ; while the javalies, although 
several of them lay stretched behind her heels, were 
uttering their shrill grunts, and rushing at her shankar 
whenever these rested for a moment upon the earth. 
There were more than a hundred of them around her 
feet. The ground was literally covered with their 
dark forms, crowding each other, and springing 
nimbly about. 

Without waiting to consider the danger, Basil 
dashed into their midst, followed by Fran9ois and 
Lucien. It was well they were mounted, else they 
never would have come out of that crowd again. AL 
three had fired as they rode up. They believed that 
this would have scattered the drove ; but they found 
their mistake, for although each of them shot down a 
victim, it had no effect ; and the next moment, thei* 
three horses were hopping about, plunging and pitch 
ing as badly as Jeannette. The javalies surroundea 
them with shrill gruntings, driving their tusks into the 
horses’ shanks, and leaping up almost high enough 
to reach the riders themselves. It was well for them 
they were good riders. Had any of them been un- 
horsed at that moment, his fate would have been 
sealed. They kept their saddles, however, but with 
out being able to reload their pieces. Marengo, who 
was an old Texas hound, had seen javalies before ; 
and, having wisely shied off upon the prairie, stood 
ooking on. 


JLANNETTE AND THE JAVALIES. 


155 


The young hunters soon saw that it was no ise 
keeping their ground, and prepared to letreat. Basil 
urged his horse forward to the tree, and with his 
hunting knife cut the lasso that fastened Jeanette ; 
then, shouting to his brothers to follow, started in a 
gallop across the prairie. 

Perhaps nev<^r was a mule more pleased at getting 
loose from a fastening than was that she mule 
Jeannette ; and never did a mule make better use of 
the heels that had been left her. She galloped over 
the prairie as if the very deuse had been after her. 
But if he was not, the javalies were ; for on came the 
whole drove, scores of them, grunting and screaming 
os they ran. 

The horses easily distanced them. So, too, did 
Marengo; but there was still danger for Jeannette. 
She had been now nearly two days without either 
food or water, and was weak in consequence. Her 
legs, too, were much torn by the tusks of the wild 
hogs. Moreover, the tent, that had got loose, trailing 
on one side to the ground, considerably impeded her 
flight. This last circumstance in the end proved her 
salvation ; for the javalies, overtaking her, seized the 
hanging canvas in their jaws, and pulled it from the 
pack. It fell spreading over the grass like a blanket ; 
and the herd, now coming up and mistaking it for 
their rdal enemy, commenced stamping upon it with 
their hoofs, and tearing it with their teeth. This 
gave Jeannette time ; and she was just the mule at 
that moment to profit by it. Lightened of her load, 
she struck out into a fleet gallop, and soon overtook 
the horses ; and the whole cavalcade now kept cn 


156 


JEANNETTE AND THE JAVALIES. 


until they had placed several miles between them- 
selves and the javalies. Here they halted with the 
intention of pitching their camps, as their animals 
were not only wearied, but Jeannette was hardly able 
to travel at all. The process of “ pitching camp ” 
was now considerably simplified, as they had lost not 
only their tent, but several of their camp utensils. 

What had induced the javalies to attack the mule ? 
This was the subject of conversation with our adven- 
turers, as soon as they had fairly cooled from their 
race. They knew that these creatures rarely make 
an assault in such a manner without provocation. 
But it was likely Jeannette had given them this. No 
doubt they had been wandering about in search of 
food, and lighted upon the turkeys that Lucien and 
Basil in their haste had left lying upon the ground. 
The wild hogs are not particular as to their food. 
They will eat fish, flesh, or fowl, snakes or vegetables, 
and, finding the brace of birds, had commenced de- 
vouring them. In doing so they had come within 
reach of Jeannette’s heels, who, at that moment not 
being in the best temper,, had no doubt let fly, and 
kicked one of them over ; and this of course had led 
to a general onslaught from the whole herd. 

It was well for Jeannette that her masters arrived 
when they did, else her old ribs would soon have 
cracked under the sharp tusks of the enraged animals. 

The javalies, or 'peccaries^ as they are more often 
termed by naturalists, are in general of a harmless 
disposition, and, if not interfered with, will rarely 
make an attack upon man. When provoked, how- 
ever, by one of their number being wounded, or 


.'EANNETTE ATND THE JAVALIES. 


157 


even when their haunt is invaded, they become both 
fierce and dangerous. Though small creatures, thej' 
<!)ossess extreme courage ; and their powerful jawa 
and large tusks render them formidable assailants. 
Like all animals of the hog species, when enraged, 
they seem to be unconscious of danger ; and a herd 
of them will battle with an enemy until every one 
has fallen. Not unfrequently the Mexican hunter ia 
“ treed ” by javalies, and compelled to remain on hia 
perch for hours, and sometimes for days, before his 
besiegers retire and leave him to descend Afith safety 
14 


158 A CUNNING CAT AxiD A SLY OLD ’POSSUM 


CHAPTEE XVII 

A CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLD ’POSSUM. 

The place where our adventurers now encamped 
was in a large grove of white oaks and shellbark 
hickory trees. There was a spring near the centre 
of the grove, and near this spring the hoi’ses wer€ 
tied, as there grew around it plenty of grass of the 
mezquite species. The dried meat, which formed the 
staple of their own provisions, had been scattered by 
Jeannette in her flight, and of course lost. What were 
they to have for dinner ? This was an important 
question ; and by way of answer to it, Basil and 
Fran9ois took up their guns and walked out to see 
whether they could fall in with a squirrel or some 
other eatable creature. But the sun was yet high, 
and no squirrels could be seen — for these little 
creatures hide themselves during midday, coming 
out only in the mornings and evenings to feed 
and play. 

Failing to start any game in the thick, shady grove, 
the young hunters bethought them of making trial 
around its edge ; and after walking a hundred yards 
or so, they came near the border of the prairie. 
They did not show themselves suddenly, as they were 
in hopes they might discover deer, partridges, oi 
some other game in — what is usually a favorite 


A CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLD ’POSSUM. 159 


resort — the open ground along the edge of the woods 
Tliey stole silently forward, therefore, using the large 
tree trunks to screen them. 

The prairie was a clear one — that is, without 
timber islands, only here and there a tree, and these 
but small ones, mostly black jacks and shellbarks 
They could see over its surface to a great extent, a* 
il was quite level and covered with short, spring 
buffalo grass. No deer was upon it. Not an animal 
of any sort. Yes, there was. On looking more care- 
fully, at no great distance, — about two hundred yards 
out, — they beheld two small creatures running over 
the sward, and at intervals squatting upon their 
haunches like monkeys, as if conversing with each 
other ! 

“ Prairie dogs,” suggested Fran9ois. 

“ No,” said Basil, “ they are not that, for I .see no 
tails. The prairie dogs have long tails.” 

“ What can they be, then ? ” 

“ Hares, I take it,” replied Basil, looking through 
his fingers. 

“ Hares ! ” ejaculated Fran 9 ois, in some surprise. 
“ Why, they are not bigger than rats ! Do you mean 
that they are young hares ? ” 

“ No, indeed, full-grown hares of uieir species.” 

“ Ha ! ' ha ! ha ! ” laughed Fran9ois. “ Why, 
brother, what are your eyes good for.? You think 
they are far off, don’t you .? I tell you they are not 
tw(. hundred yards from us, and a gray squirrel 
would be a giant beside them. Hares, indeed ! ” 

“ I am still of that opinion,” answered Basil, as he 
continued to gaze intently at the animals. “ I air 


160 A CUNNING CAT AND A J»LY LLD POSSUM. 

not certain, though. I wish Lucien were here. Per 
iiaps he could tell us what they are.” 

“ Here he is, then,” said Franpois, as the footstep 
of Lucien was heard behind them. “ Look yonder, 
Luce ” continued he. “ See what Basil calls a pair 
of full- grown hares ! ” 

“ And Basil is right,” replied Lucien, after having 
examined them for a moment. “They are full- 
gi’own hares.” 

Fran9ois looked confounded. 

“ If I mistake not,” continued Lucien, “ they are 
the species known among the Indians of the prairie 
as the ‘ little chief hare.’ They may be a different 
variet)’, though, for there are several species of these 
small hares found in the Rocky Mountains, and the 
prairies that lie around them. They are very rare. 
I wish we could get the skin of one. I am sure 
papa would prize it highly.” 

“ That we may soon get,” said Fran9ois. “ Can I 
not step forward, and shoot one of them ? ” 

“ No,” replied Lucien, “ they would be off like 
the wind, before you could get within range.” 

“ What about Marengo ? Can he not catch one ? ” 

“ I think not ; besides, he would tear it in pieces. 
No. Our only chance is to remain here. They ap 
pear to be making this way.” 

The three now took their stations behind the trunks 
of large trees, so as not to be observed by the timid 
little animals. 

The latter, as they fed and sported over the grass^ 
were still getting nearer to the edge of the grove* 
but as they advanced in an oblique direction, they 


a CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLD 'POSSUM. 16 1 


were not likely to approach the point where the 
young hunters were stationed. These thought of 
moving farther alor g, so as to meet them ; and were 
about starting to do so, when an object appeared that 
caused them to remain where they were. 

Silently moving among the weeds and brambles, 
now trotting quickly behind the covering of a pros- 
trate log, now slowly crawling over the more open 
ground, went a strange animal. At intervals it 
stopped, squatted low along the earth, and looked 
'eagerly out upon the prairie. It did not see the 
young hunters. Its yellow eyes were bent upon the 
innocent little creatures that gambolled over the grass 
beyond. 

It was an odd-looking animal — about the size of 
a terrier dog, but, otherwise, altogether unlike one. 
It was of a reddish-yellow color, with brown spots 
upon its des, and stripes or bands of the same along 
its back. These gave it the appearance of the leop- 
ard or tiger species, and it resembled these animals 
in the rounded, cat-like form of its head. Its erect, 
tufted ears, however, and short tail showed that it dif- 
fered, in some respects, from the tiger kind. The 
tail, indeed, was the oddest thing about it. It was not 
over five inches in length, curving stiffly upward, and 
looking as if it had been “ stumped,” as the tails of 
terriers usually are. It was not so, however. Five 
mches was all the tail it ever had ; and this shortness 
of tail, with the thick, clumsy legs, — but, above all, 
the high, tufted ears, approaching each other at their 
— enabled the young hunters to tell what it was 
— a lynx. It was that species known as the “ ba-^ 

14# K 


162 A CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLD ’POSSUM. 

lynx,” [lynx rufus^) commonly called in America tlif 
‘ wildcat,” and sometimes the “ catamount.” It was 
the Texas variety of this animal — which is deeper 
in color than the common bay lynx, and, I think a 
different species. It was evidently doing its best tc 
get near the little hares, and seize one or both of 
them.. It knew it was not swift enough to run them 
down, but it might get close enough to spring upon 
them. It was favored to some extent by the ground 
for, although it was open prairie, the white, withe rea 
grass of the previous year rose here and there over 
the new growth in tufts large enough to conceal its 
body as it squatted. 

Nearly in a direct line between the lynx and the 
hares grew a solitary tree, of the pecan species, 
with spreading limbs ; and almost under it was a 
little patch or thicket of briers, weeds, and high 
grass — no doubt where some old log, or the carcass 
of an animal, had mouldered away, and fertilized the 
soil. For this the lynx was making on one side, and 
towards it the hares were feeding on the other. 

The latter had got very near it, and near, too, to 
the boys, who could now distinguish their long, erect 
ears, slender limbs, and graceful motions — resem- 
bling, in fact, those of the common hare. Theii 
color, however, was different. It was a rusty fein, 
lighter underneath, but in no part — not even under 
the tan — did any white appear. It was a beautiful 
sight to behold these innocent little creatures, now 
nibbling at the blades of grass, now leaping a few 
feet over the sward, and then settling comically upon 
their haunches. The young hunters thought it a 








ft 


I 



* i ^ 

• * JI.J *• ■ 'W* 

I 






A CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLD ’POSSUM. 163 


beautiful sight ; aiid so would you, boy reader, had 
you witnessed the manoeuvres of these miniature 
hares. 

An odd-looking object now presented itself directly 
m front of them, and close to the briers. It was cf 
a round shape, and looked like a large clew of hah 
or wool of a grayish color, half buried in the ground. 
Whether it had been there before, neither Basil, nor 
Lucien, nor Franfois could tell. It might have been 
without their noticing it, as their attention was sc 
occupied with the hares and the lynx. Franfois said 
he had noticed it a little before ; but it had only 
slightly arrested his attention, as he supposed it to be 
a tuft of the dry grass, or a globe cactus, (echinocac- 
tus,) a species of which they had seen much of late 
and to which it bore a considerable resemblance. 
It was evident, however, on closer scrutiny, it was 
not that. 

The little hares seemed to notice it about the same 
time ; and, prompted by curiosity, they drew nearer 
and nearer to it. There was nothing about its ap- 
pearance to alarm them. They had never been 
attacked by an enemy in that shape. To all appear- 
ance it had neither teeth nor claws, and consequently 
they had nothing to fear. 

Encouraged by the absence of all danger, and 
vying with each other in boldness, the little crea- 
tures advanced, first one and then the other, a few 
inches farther, and so on, until their noses almost 
touched the strange object. All at once the clew- 
like body flew out, displaying a sharp-snouted, four 
footed animal, whoss long, serpent-like lail, at the 


i64 A CUNNIISG CAT AND A SLY OLD ’POSSUM. 

same instant, sweeping around, caught one of the 
hares in its preliensile embrace ! The little creature 
uttered a shrill squeak, while its companion bounded 
off in terror. 

The opossum (for it was no other than an old she 
possum) now turned upon her tail ; and, seizing the 
head of the hare in her hog-like jaws, killed it at a 
single “ cranch.” She then released it from the coil ; 
and, laying it out upon the grass, would have made a 
meal of it then and there, had she been permitted to 
do so. But that was not ordained to be. 

The lynx, who was crouching forward, not twenty 
feet from the briers, had been a witness to all this. 
At first it seemed to give him chagrin. In a little 
while, however, he appeared rather to like it than 
otherwise. 

“ On second thoughts,” said he to himself, “ it 
iS better as it is. The ’possum has saved me the 
trouble of catching the hare, and I might have missed 
it withal. She has captured the game, but I shall eat 
it, I guess.” 

These thoughts he certainly had — for they were 
as clearly expressed by his actions, as if he had 
been gifted with speech, and had uttered them aloud 
In accordance with them, therefore, he crept on, in- 
tending to spring upon the ’possum unawares. 

The latter, however, before commencing to eat, 
like all who know that they have done a guilty deed, 
raising herself to her full height, looked around to 
Rfce if any one had been a witness to the act. Her 
eyes fell upon the lynx ; and, hastily seizing the haw 
in her teetn, she plunged into the bramble 


A CUNNING CAT AND A, SLY OLD ’POSSDM. 165 


The lynx, seeing that further concealment was of 
no use, bounded forward with curved back and mane 
erect. He did not at once follo w into the briers, but 
ran around them, in order to discover at what point 
the ’possum had hid herself. He was not without 
apprehensions that she might have a hole there. If so, 
good by to both hare and ’possum, thought he. 

It appeared not, however ; for, after a few cir • 
clings around the patch, he was seen to dash 
boldly in. 

For some time nothing could be seen of either 
lynx or ’possum. The patch covered only a few 
yards of the prairie, but it was a regular “ brake,” 
with vines, briers, and thistles, thickly interwoven 
and canopied with leaves. Neither uttered any 
noise ; but the motion of the leaves, and cracking 
of the brambles at different points, told that a hot 
pursuit was going on underneath — the pursued- no 
doubt baffling the pursuer, by her body being much 
smaller and better adapted for squeezing through 
narrow places. 

For some minutes this curious chase was kept 
up. Then- the ’possum glided out into the open 
ground, to the astonishment of all, still carrying 
the hare in her mouth. She made directly for the 
tree and proceeded to climb it, grasping the trunk 
with her fore arms, like a human being. Her taking 
to the tree also excited surprise, as it was a small 
one, — not over thirty feet high, — and the young 
hunters knew that the lynx could climb as well 
Es she. / 

The latter now came out of the bramble, and 


166 A CONNING CAT AND A SLY OLD ’POSSUM. 

with one bound sprang to the foot of the pecan. lie 
did not follow up immediately, but stopped a moment 
to breathe himself, evidently exulting — as he knew 
he could easily climb after, and feeling satisfied that 
he now had his game safe and secure. 

“ Treed at last, old mother ’possum ! ” soliloquized 
he, although not aloud. “ I’ll get you now, an’ if 1 
don’t give you a good woppin’ for the trouble you’ve 
put me to — see if I don't. I wouldn’t eat ye, no 
how — you ain’t sweet enough for that — but I’ll eat 
that hare, an’ I’ll chastise you for using it so ! ” 

And with this determination he galloped up the 
pecan, his claws rattling against the bark. 

By this time the opossum had got near the top of 
the tree, and out upon one of the branches that grew 
horizontally. Along this the lynx followed ; and had 
arrived almost within reach of the object of his pur- 
suit, when the opossum, suddenly lapping the branch 
with her tail, let herself down to the limb below! 
The lynx appeared for a moment as if about to spring 
after; but the limb was a slender one, and he was 
not sure that he might be able to grasp it. He there- 
fore turned back, evidently chagrined ; and, descend- 
ing by the main trunk, ran out upon the branch now 
occupied by the opossum. The latter, as before, 
again let herself down to another limb; and theiij 
without waiting for her pursuer, to another still Jower, 
until she hung on the very lowermost branch of the 
tree ! 

The boys thought she was about to drop to the 
ground, and endeavor to escape to the woods. That 
however, was not her intention, for she knew the 


A CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLD ’POSSUM. 161 


ynx would soon overtake her if she made the at- 
tempt, She had got into the safest situation possible 
under the circumstances, and she seemed to know it. 
She therefore continued to hang on the lowest limb 
of the pecan — so near its extremity that the branch 
bent under her weight. It would not have carried 
another ’possum, much less the heavier body of a 
lynx ; and the latter, with the “ eye of a lynx,” saw 
that at a glance. 

Mortified as he was, however, he was determined 
to satisfy himself by a trial. He first crawled out 
upon the limb, proceeding with great caution as far 
as he dared venture ; and then, with outstretched 
claw, endeavored to reach the rings of her tail, think- 
ing he might scratch them off. In this he was not 
successful. He could barely touch the tail with his 
toes ; and he might just as well have tried to open 
the claws of an eagle. He next mounted the branch 
above, thinking this would bring him nearer ; but he 
soon discovered his mistake. Again he ran out upon 
the limb where the opossum hung, and looked for a 
moment as if determined to spring down upon her, 
and carry her along with him to the earth ; but the 
distance deterred him, and after a while he skulked 
back, and squatted himself in a fork of the tree. 

He did not rest long before a new thought seemed 
to strike him. The ’possum was not so very high 
above the ground ; perhaps he could spring up and 
seize her by the nose. It was, at all events, easy 
to make the trial. And with this intention he de- 
scended to the foot of the tree, and ran out to the 
spot over which she was hanging. But she was 


168 A CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLD ’POSSUM 

higher than he had calculated ; and, like the fox 
with the grapes, after a few leaps he gave it up. Ho 
was resolved, however, to make her stand a siege ; 
and, thinking he would be as comfortable where he 
was, he did not return to the tree, but sat down upon 
the grass, keeping his eyes fixed upon his antagonist. 

All this while the old ’possum hung quietly upon 
her tail, holding the hare in her teeth. From the 
moment she had secured herself in her present po- 
sition, she seemed to have no fear of her antagonist. 
On the contrary, her countenance exhibited the ex- 
pression of a malicious laugh — and this was as 
evident to the spectators as words could have made it. 
The cunning creature plainly enjoyed the chagrin 
she was causing to the “ catamount.” 

At intervals, however, the thought seemed to stray 
across her mind as to how it would all end ; and then 
she assumed a graver look. The lynx was deter- 
mined — she saw that in his face — to make her 
stand a long siege. It would be, therefore, a question 
of patience and hunger. For the latter she was pre- 
pared ; and to enable her to endure it the better, she 
passed the hare into her hand-like fore feet, and 
commenced tearing and eating it ! 

This was too much for the patience of the lynx. 
He could bear • it no longer, but rose suddenly to his 
feet ; and, with mane erect, rushed up the tree again 
and out upon the branch where hung the opossum 
This time, without stopping to calculate the danger 
he sprang forv'ard, throwing his fore feet around the 
other’s hips, and seizing her tail in his teeth. The 
branch creaked, then broke, and both fell together to 
tl i earth ! 


A CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLD ’’POSSI M. 16P 

For a moment the lynx seemed stunned by the 
♦till ; but, the next moment, he was “ himself again.” 
He raised himself up ; arched his back like a true 
cat, and, with a wild scream, pounced down upon the 
'possum. He seemed to have forgotten the hare, 
iv'hich the other had dropped ih her fall. Revenge 
»v^as the passion that now raged strongest within him. 
Revenge caused him to forget that he was hungry. 

The opossum, as soon as she came to the ground, 
had suddenly clewed herself up ; and now presented 
the same appearance as when she first came up(Ui 
the stage. Head, neck, limbs, and tail, were no 
longer visible — nothing but a round ball of thick, 
woolly hair ! At this the catamount tugged with 
“ teeth and toe nails.” He worried it for not less 
than ten minutes, until he became weary. The 
’possum was dead to all appearance ; and this the 
other seemed to think, — or whether he did or not, at 
all events, he became tired, and left off worrying her. 
The sweeter moi'sel — the hare — was before his 
eyes ; and this perhaps tempted him to desist, pre- 
ferring to try his teeth for a while upon it. Leaving 
the ’possum at length, he turned round and seized 
upon the hare. 

At this moment Francois let Marengo slip, and the 
whole party rushed forward with shouts. 

The lynx, seeing his retreat cut off from the timber, 
struck out upon the prairie ; but the great hound soon 
overtook him, and, after a short but desperate fight, 
put an end to his poaching. 

The young hunters in the pursuit had picked up 
the hare, which the lynx had dropped in his flight 
15 


170 A CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLl ’poSSUM. 

When the chase was over, they came back to th? 
tree, with the intention of getting the <lead ‘possum, 
which they meant to cook for their supper. To 
their astonishment, no ’possum was there — neither 
m the tree, nor the brier patch beside it, nor any 
where ! The sly creature had been “ playing ’pos- 
sum” throughout all that terrible worrying; and, 
finding the coast clear, had “ unclewed ” herself, and 
stolen off to her hiding-place under the roots of some 
neighboring tree ! 

Nothing remained but the body of the lynx and 
the poor little carcass of the hare. The former none 
of our adventurers cared to eat, although it is often 
eaten both by the trappers and Indians — and the 
latter was so torn and chewed as to render it worth- 
less. So, since no other game — not even a squirrel 
— could be found about the place, all four — Lucien, 
Basil, Fran9ois, and Marengo, went to sleep — for 
the first time sin ^e the commencement of their jour- 
ney — supperleu f 


AM ODD i^DVENTTIRE BEFORE BREaEPAST. ITi 


CHAPTER XVHL 

AN ODD ADVENTURE BEFORE BREAKFAST. 

They had plenty of meat for their breakfast, though, 
8uch as it was, and came nigh paying dearly enough 
for it. 

The three brothers slept, lying along the ground, 
within a few feet of one another. Their tent was 
gone, and of course they were in the open air. They 
were under a large, spreading tree, and, wrapped in 
their blankets, had been sleeping soundly through the 
night. Day was just beginning to break, when some- 
thing touched Fran9ois on the forehead. It was a 
cold, clammy object, and, pressing upon his hot skin, 
woke him at once. He started as if a pin had been 
thrust into him, and the cry which he uttered awoke 
also his companions. Was it a snake that had touched 
him ? Fran9ois thought so at the moment, and con- 
tinued to think so while he was rubbing his eyes 
open. When this feat was accomplished, however, 
he caught a glimpse of some'^ object running off that 
could not be a snake. 

“ What do you think it was ? *’ inquired Basil and 
Lucien in the same breath 

“ A wolf, I think,” replied Fran9ois. “ It was his 
cold nose I felt. See ! yonder it goes. See - - sso© ! 
there are two of them.” 


\lfil AN ODD ADVLNTI/RE BEFORE BREAKFAST 

Fran 9 ois pointed in the direction in which the rw4 
animals were seen to run. Basil and Lucien looked 
and saw them as well. They were about the size of 
woh es, but appeared to be quite black, and not like 
wolves at all. What could they be > They had sud- 
denly passed into a darker aisle among the trees, and 
the boys had only caught a glimpse of them as they 
went in. They could still distinguish their two bodies 
in the shade, but nothing more. What could they 
be } Perhaps javalies } This thought, no doubt, 
occurred to the brothers because of their late adven- 
ture with these animals. 

“They are too large, and run too clumsily, for 
; '^alies,” said Lucien. 

^ "ars } ” suggested Fran9ois. 

“ No, • they are not large enough for bf^ars.” 

All three were puzzled. 

They had risen upon their hands and knees, disen- 
cumbered themselves of their blankets, and each had 
grasped his gun, which they always kept close by 
them when asleep; 

They remained in this position, straining their eyes 
up the gloomy alley after the two black objects, that 
had stopped about fifty yards distant. All at once, 
the form of a man rose up before them, and directly 
in front of the animals. Instead of retreating fiom 
the latter, as the boys expected, the upright figure 
stood still. To their further astonishment, the two 
animals ran up to it, and appeared to leap against it, 
as if making an attack upon it ! But this could not 
be, since the figure did not move from its place, a^ 
Diic would have done who had been attacked On the 


AN ODD ADVENTURE BEFORE BRFAKFAST. 17.1 


contrary, after a while, it stooped down, and appeared 
tc be caressing them ! 

“ A man and two dogs,” whispered Francois 

perhaps an Indian.” 

“ It may be a man,” returned Lucien, also speak* 
ing in a whisper. 1 know not what else it could be , 
but those are no dogs, or I never saw such.” 

This Lucien uttered with emphasis, and in a seri- 
ous tone, that caused the brothers to draw closer to 
each other. 

During all this time, Marengo stood by, restrained 
by them from rushing forward. The dog had not 
awaked until the first cry of Fran 9 ois roused him. 
He was wearied with the long gallop of the preced- 
ing days, and, like his masters, had been sleeping 
soundly. As all started almost simultaneously, a 
word from Basil had kept him in, — for to this he 
had been well trained, — and without a signal from 
him he was not used to attack any creature, not even 
his natural enemies. He therefore stood still, looking 
steadily in the same direction as they, and at inter- 
vals uttering a low growl that was almost inaudible. 
There was a fierceness about it, however, that showed 
he did not regard the strange objects as friends. 
Perhaps he knew what they were better than any of 
the party. 

The three mysterious creatures still remained near 
the same spot, and about fifty yards from* the boys. 
They did not remain motionless, thoug’^ The two 
smaller ones ran over the ground, now separating 
from the upright figure, and then returning again 
and appearing to caress it as before The latter now 
15 * 


174 AN ODD ADVENTURE BEFORE BREAKFAST. 

and then stooped, as if to receive their caresses^ and 
—when they were not by — as though it was gather- 
ing something from tlie ground. It would then rise 
into an upright position, and remain motionless as 
before. All their manoBUvres were performed in 
perfect silence. 

There was something mysterious, awe-inspiring, in 
these movements ; and our young hunters observed 
them not without feelings of terror. They were 
both puzzled and awed. They scarcely knew what 
course to adopt. They talked in whispers, giving 
their counsels to each other. Should they creep to 
their horses, mount, and ride off ? That would be 
of no use ; for if what they saw was an Indian, there 
were, no doubt, others near ; and they could easily 
track and overtake them. They felt certain that the 
strange creatures knew they were there ; for indeed 
their horses, some thirty yards off, could be plainly 
heard stamping the ground and cropping the grass. 
Moreover, one of the two animals had touched and 
smelt Francois ; so there could be no mistake about 
it being aware of their presence. It would be idle, 
therefore, to attempt getting off unawares. What 
then ? Should they climb into a tree ? That, thought 
they, would be of just as little use ; and they gave up 
the idea. They resolved, at length, to remain where 
they were, until they should either be assailed by 
their mysterious neighbors, or the clearer light might 
enable them to make out who and what these were. 

As it grew clearer, however, their awe was not 
diminished ; for they now saw that the upright figure 
had two thick, strong-looking arms, which it held ow 


A.H ODD ADVENTURE BEF RE BREAKFAST. 175 


norizontally, manoeuvring them in a singular manner. 
Its color, too, appeared reddish, while that of the 
small animals was deep black ! Had they been in 
the forests of Africa, or South, instead of North, 
America, they would have taken the larger figure for 
that of a gigantic ape. As it was, they knew it could 
not be that. 

The light suddenly became brighter, a cloud hav- 
ing passed off the eastern sky. Objects could be 
seen more distinctly ; and then the mystery, that had 
so long held the young hunters in torturing suspense 
was solved. The large animal reared up, and stood 
with its side towards them ; and its long, pointed 
snout, its short, erect ears, its thick body and shaggy 
coat of hair, showed that it was no Indian, nor human 
creature of any sort, but a huge hear standing upright 
on its hams ! 

“A she bear and her cubs ! ” exclaimed Fran9ois ; 
“ but see ! ” he continued, “ she is red, while the cubs 
are jet black.” 

Basil did not stop for any observation of that kind. 
He had sprung to his feet, and levelled his rifle, the 
moment he saw what the animal was. 

“ For your life, do not fire ! ” cried Lucien. It 
may he a grizzly hear ! ” 

His advice came too late. The crack of Basil’s 
rifle was heard ; and the bear, dropping upon all 
fours, danced over the ground, shaking her head and 
snorting furiously. The light had deceived Basil 
and instead of hitting her in the head, as he had in- 
tended, his bullet glanced from her snout, doing her 
but little harm. Now, the snout of a bear is its most 


t76 N ODD ADVENTUKE BEFORE BREAEFAST. 

precious and tendei organ ; and a blow upon that wil 
rouse even the most timid species of them to fury 
So it was with this one. She saw whence the sho 
came ; and as soon as she had given her head a few 
shakes, she came in a shuffling gallop towards the 
boys. 

Basil now saw how rashly he had acted ; hut there 
was no time for expressing regrets. There was not 
even time for them to get to their horses. Before 
they could reach these, and draw the pickets, the 
bear would overtake them. Some one of iDem 
would become a victim. 

“ Take to the trees ! ” shouted Lucien ; “ if it he 
a grizzly bear, she cannot climb ” 

As Lucien said this, he levelled his short ride, and 
fired at the advancing animal. The bullet seemed 
to strike her on the flank, as she turned with a growl 
and bit the part. This delayed her for a moment, 
and allowed Lucien time to swing himself to a tree. 
Basil had thrown away his rifle, not having time to 
reload. Fran 9 ois, when he saw the great monster s(? 
near, dropped his gun without firing. 

All three, in their haste, climbed separate trees. 
It was a grove of white oaks, as we have already 
stated ; and these trees, unlike the pines, or magno- 
lias, or cypress trees, have usually great limbs grow- 
ing low down and spreading out horizontally. These 
limbs are often as many feet in length as the tree 
itself is in height. 

It was upon these that they had climbed, Basi 
having taken to that one under which they had slept 
and which was much larger than the others around 


AN ODD ADVENTURE BEFORE BREAKFAST, 1T3 


the foot of this tree the bear stopped. The rooes 
and blankets drew her attention for the moment. She 
mssed them over with her great paws, and then left 

them, and walked round the trunk, looking upward 
at intervals uttering loud “ sniffs,” that sounded like 
the “ ’scape ” of a steam pipe. By this time, Basil 
had reached the third or fourth branch from the 
ground. He might have gone much higher; but 
from what Lucien had suggested, he believed the 
animal to be a grizzly bear. Her color, which was 
of a fern or fulvous brown, confirmed him in that 
belief.; as he knew that grizzly bears are met with 
of a great variety of colors. He had nothing to fear, 

then, even on the lowest branch, and he thought it 
was no use going higher. So he stopped and looked 
down. He had a good view of the animal below ; 
and, to his consternation, he saw at a glance that it 
was riot a grizzly, but a different species. Her shape, 
as well as general appearance, convinced him it was 
the “ cinnamon ” bear, a variety of the black, and 
one of the best tree climbers of the kind. This was 
soon put beyond dispute, as Basil saw the animal 
throw her great paws around the trunk, and com- 
mence crawling upward ! 

It was a fearful moment. Lucien and Fran9ois 
Doth leaped back to the ground, uttering shouts of 
warning and despair. Franyois picked up his gun, 
and, without hesitating a moment, ran to the foot of 
the tree, and fired both barrels into the hips of the 
bear. The small shot hardly could have penetrated 
her thick, shaggy hide. It only served to irritate hef 
afresh, causing her to growl fiercely ; and she paused 

L 


178 AN ODD ADVENTURE BEFORE BREAKFAST. 

for some moments, as if considering whether sh« 
would descend ^nd punish the “ enemy in the rear,” 
or keep on after Basil. The rattling of the latter 
among the branches above decided her, and on she 
crawled upward. 

Basil was almost as active among the branches of 
a tree as a squirrel or a monkey. When about sixty 
feet from the ground, he crawled out upon a long 
limb that grew horizontally. He chose this one be- 
cause he saw another growing above it, which, he 
bought, he might reach as soon as the bear followed 
aim out upon the first, and by this means get back 
to the main trunk before the bear, and down to the 
ground again. After getting out upon the limb, how- 
ever, he saw that he had miscalculated. The branch 
upon which he was, bending down under his weight, 
so widened the distance between it and the one. 
above, that he could not reach the latter even with 
the tips of his fingers. He turned to go back. To 
his horror, the bear was at the other end in the fork, 
and preparing to follow him along the limh I 

He could not go back without meeting the fierce 
brute in the teeth. There was no branch below 
within his reach, and none above, and he was fifty 
feet from the ground. To leap down appeared the 
only alternative to escape the clutches of the bear 
and that alternative was certain death ! 

The bear advanced along the limb. Fran9ois and 
Lucien screamed below, loading their pieces as rap- 
idly as they could ; but they feared they would ba 
too late. 

It was a terrible situation : but it was in such eme^ 


AN ODD ADVENTDPE BEFORE BREAKFAST. 179 


gencios that the strong mind of Basil best displayed 
Itself; and instead of yielding to despair, he apoeared 
cool and collected. His mind was busy examining 
every chance that offered. 

All at once a thought struck him ; and. obedien 
to its impulse, he called to his brothers below, — 

•' A rope ! a rope ! Fling me a rope ! Haste I 
for Heaven’s sake, haste ! A rope, or I am lost ! ” 

Fortunately, there lay a rope under the tree. It 
was a raw-hide lasso, used in packing Jeannette. It 
lay by the spot where they had slept. 

Lucien dropped his half-loaded rifle, and sprang 
towards it, coiling it as he took it up. Lucien could 
throw a lasso almost as well as Basil himself ; and 
that was equal to a Mexican “ vaquero,” or a “ gau- 
cho ” of the Pampas. He ran nearly under the 
limb, twirled the lasso around his head, and launched 
it upwards. 

Basil, to gain time, had crept out upon the limb 
as far as it would bear him, while his fierce pursuer 
followed after. The branch, under their united 
weight, bent downward like a bow. Fortunately, It 
was oak, and did not break. 

Basil was astride, his face turned to the tree and 
towards his pursuer. The long snout of the latter 
was within three feet of his head, and he could feel 
her warm breath, as, with open jaws, she stretched 
forward, snorting fiercely. 

At this moment, the ring end of the lasso struck 
the branch directly between them, passing a few feel 
over it. Before it could slip back again, and fall off, 


180 AN ODD ADVENTURE BEFORE BREA BEAST. 

the young hunter had grasped it, and, with the dex- 
terity of a packer, double knotted it around the limb. 
The next moment, and just as the great claws of the 
bear were stretched forth to clutch him, he slipped 
off the branch, and glided dcvm the lasso. 

The rope did not reach the ground by at least 
twenty feet ! It was a short one, and part (jf it had 
been taken up in the hasty knotting. Lucien and 
Fran9ois, in consternation, had observed this from 
below, as soon as it first hung down. They had ob- 
served it, and prepared themselves accordingly ; so 
that, when Basil reached the end of the rope, he saw 
his brothers standing below, and holding a large 
buffalo skin stretched out between them. Into this 
he dropped, and, the next moment, stood upon the 
ground unhurt. 

A.nd now came the moment of triumph. The 
tough limb, that had been h':‘1d retent by Basil’s 
weight, becoming so suddenly rdeased, flew upward 
with a jerk. 

The unexpected violence of that jerk was too much 
for the bear. Her hold gave way : she was shot into 
the air several feet upwards, and faliinir with a dull 
heavy sound to the earth, lay for a moment motion- 
less ! She was only stunned, however, and would 
soon have struggled up again to renew the attack ; 
but before she could regain her feet, Basil had laid 
hold of Francois’ half-loaded gun, and hurriedly 
pouring down a handful of bullets, ran forward and 
fired them into her head, killing her upon the spot ! 

The cubs, by this time, had arrived upon the 


an odd adventure before breakfast. 181 


ground ; and Marengo, who had now partially recov- 
ered, by way of revenging himself for the castigation 
he kad received from their mother, attacked them 
with fury. The little creatures fought fiercely, and, 
together, would have been more than a match for 
Marengo ; but the rifles of his masters came to hit 
6*8istarce, and put an end to the conte«^ 

16 


182 


JERKING A BEAR. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

JERKING A BEAR. 

All three — old bear and cubs — now lay stretched 
along the grass, dead as may be. A rare-looking trio 
they were. The old one could not have weighed less 
than five hundred pounds. Her long, rough coat was 
of a fawn or cinnamon color, while the cubs were of 
a uniform black. This, however, is quite a common 
thing ; and, what is still more singular, the cubs of 
the black bear are often seen of a reddish or cinna- 
mon color, while the mother herself is pure black. 
No doubt, the cubs, when full grown, change to the 
color of their own species ; but even at all ages, bears 
of the same species are found varying in color, from 
difference of climate or other circumstances. 

On the continent of North America, say the natu- 
ralists, but three species of bears are found, viz., the 
“ black,” the “ polar,” and the “ grizzly.” This is 
not certain, however ; for the cinnamon bear, of 
which we have been speaking, is probably a species 
distinct from the black. If so, there are four kinds 
on that continent, and, perhaps, a fifth, as the brown 
bear of the Hudson’s Bay furriers, hitherto set down 
as a variety of the black, is more likely the Russian 
or brown bear of Europe. It may have reached the 
American continent by Kamschatka, where it is » 
common species. 


JERHING A BEAR. 


183 


riie polar bear is found only in the snowy regions 
flat border the Arctic Ocean, and never ranges above 
jne hundred miles from the sea. The “ grizzly,” for 
strength, courage, and ferocity, takes the first place 
among the bear family, outranking even his white 
cousin of the north. We shall have more to say of 
him by and by. The black bear is our present sub- 
ject ; and as all that is known of the cinnamon vari- 
ety goes to show that its habits are similar to those 
of the black, what is here said of the one may be 
considered applicable to both. 

The black bear (ursus Americanus) is said to re- 
semble the brown bear of Europe. I can see no 
resemblance. There is enough of difference, cer- 
tainly, to constitute them separate and distinct spe- 
cies. The former has one molar tooth more than the 
latter ; besides, the profile of the black bear is not 
so much arched, or convex, as that of the brown. In 
every respect, except habits, they are unlike each 
other. Their habits are nearly similar. 

The whole American continent is the range of the 
black bear. He can live, and, no doubt, enjoy life, 
in all climates. He is equally at home in the icy 
regions of Canada and the tropic swamps of Louisi- 
ana. He is found from the shores of the Atlantic 
to the Pacific. He inhabits thick forests, and ranges 
in rocky desert regions, where scarcely any timber 
grows. He prefers wooded districts, however, and 
in these is most commonly met with. 

Black bears were very plentiful in America pre 
vious to its colonization by the whites. The demand 
for their skins caused them to be much hunted since 


^84 


JERKING A BEAR. 


,hat event, and of course they are gro^v’ng less nu 
merous every day. The fur companies, during the 
last hundred years, have obtained thousands upon 
thousands of their skins, both from white and Indian 
hunters. There are still many of these animals found 
in wild, unsettled parts, and even in the old and long 
inhabited states they are occasionally met with in 
secluded and mountainous districts. You would won- 
der that they have not been extirpated long ago, being 
such large creatures, easily discovered and easily 
tracked ; besides, it is always an ambition with the 
settlors and amateur hunters to kill them. Moreover, 
but two cubs are produced at a litter, and that only 
"aappens once a year. The fact is, that during winter, 
»vhen the snow is on the ground, and the bear might 
be easily tracked and destroyed, he does not show 
himself, but lies torpid in his den, which is either a 
cave in the rocks or a hollow tree. This happens 
only in the northern countries, where there are snows 
and severe winters. In these he disappears for sev 
eral months, hiding himself in his dark lair, and 
living, as the hunters assert, by “ sucking his paws.” 
This assertion, however, I will not attempt to corrob- 
orate. All I can say is, that he retires to his lurking- 
place as “ fat as butter,” and comes out again, in 
ei.rly spring, as “ thin as a rail.” 

There is another curious fact about bears, that to 
some extent explains why they are not easily exter- 
minated. It is this : The old she animals are never 
killed during the period of gestation, for they are 
never met with at that time. It has been said, there is 
no hunter to be found in all America wlio rememberi 


JERKING A BEAR. 


185 


having kiLed a she .bear with young, either of the 
black or grizzly species. Now, this is not the case 
with most other animnls — such as foxes and wolves 
— which are often killed with a whole litter of young, 
many of their species being thus destroyed at once. 

The she bear brings forth in winter in the deep 
recesses of some cave, where she has lain hid during 
the whole period of her gestation ; and on this ac- 
count, while with young, she rarely, if ever, falls 
a victim to the hunters. When the cubs aiD large 
enough to go abroad, she takes them out^ 
them with as much tenderness as a mother would 
her children. She will lay down her life for them 
at any time, defending them with great courage when 
attacked. It has been said that, like the alligator 
mother, she is sometimes called upon to protect them 
from their savage fathers, who would devour them 
if they could. This I do not believe. 

The black bears are omnivorous. They will eat 
fish, flesh, fowl, and vegetables. They are fond of 
all kinds of berries and sweet fruits. They “ go 
crazed” after honey, climbing bee trees and robbing 
the nests. They dig for roots — such as ground 
nuts and prairie turnips. They lick up the larvse 
of insects greedily, turning over great logs to get 
at them. In the south they tear open the nests of 
turtles and alligators, and devour the eggs ; and 
where there are settlements, they steal into the fields 
and eat quantities of young corn and potatoes, making 
sad havoc with the crops. They will devour pigs 
and other animals, eating their flesh — it might be 
Baid, alive — as they do not stop to kill them, hut 


186 


JERKING A BEAR 


eat while tearing them to pieces. They will satist]^ 
their hunger with putrid carcass, or, in short, with 
any thing that is eatable by any other creature. 

\ Notwithstanding the disgusting variety of his food, 
the flesh of the black bear is very palatable. It is a 
treat among the Indians and white hunters — par- 
ticularly the large fat paws, which are esteemed the 
“ titbits.” It is, perhaps, because these people are 
so fond of them, that they are led to believe the bear 
himself must be so, and, therefore, during his winter 
retirement, entertains himself by sucking them. 

There are many ways of capturing the bear. He 
is hunted by trained hounds. When thus attacked, 
he will run straight on for ten miles, if his pursuers 
do not press him too close. When overtaken, how- 
ever, he turns upon the dogs ; and should one of 
the latter come near enough, a single blow of his 
paws will usually send it sprawling. He runs awk- 
wardly on his plantigrade feet; but, although from 
his great length and size he appears to move but 
slowly, it is not so. He manages to shuffle over the 
ground much more rapidly than one would suppose. 
He can overtake a man on foot — although a mount- 
ed hunter, with his dogs, will easily overtake him 
When he finds that he cannot escape by running 
he takes to a tree ; and, having clambered high up 
tries to hide himself among the leaves. He does 
not often succeed in this, as the keen noses of the 
hounds guide them to the right tree, where they stand 
barking and howling until the hunters come up. 
These, finding the bear “ treed,” rarely fail to bring 
l<im djwn with their rifles. He will then, if orl^ 


JERKING A BEAR. 


181 


«voun led, fight fiercely both with dogs and hunters ; 
but it is only at such times that the black bear will 
contend with man; as, when not attacked by the 
lattei, he will never attack him. When wounded, 
however, or assailed by the hunter, he becomes a 
dangerous antagonist ; and men have been dreadfully 
mutilated and torn on such occasions, escaping only 
with their lives. Some there are who have been 
nearly crushed to death by his “ hug.” 

The black bear is often trapped and snared, in 
various ways — such as by log traps, nooses tied to 
bent saplings, dead falls, and steel traps — and he is 
thus caught much more readily than either the lynx, 
the fox, or the wolf. 

It would be easy to fill a volume with anecdotes 
and adventures in which the black bear figures as 
the hero. Many stories of his peculiar habits are 
related in the back settlements of America, some of 
which are true, while others partake largely of exag- 
geration. We have not room for these, however ; 
and I have given you only facts ^ such as will enable 
you to form some idea of the general habits of this 
animal. 

Most of these facts were communicated by Lucien 
to his brothers, while they were engaged in preparing 
their breakfast ; and, as all three were very hungry, 
this was the first thing that occupied them after the 
bears had been killed. 

The breakfast consisted of part of a cub, which 
was cleared of the hair by being singed, and then 
roasted. They knew that bear meat, like pork, is 
spoiled by skinning; and they followed the Indian 


188 


JERKING A BEAR. 


fashion of preparing it. They made a hearty meal 
as the cub meat proved both tender and juicy — 
having a flavor something between young pork and 
veal. Of course, Marengo had his breakfast as well, 
coming in for refuse bits enough to have filled a large 
basket. The feet, however, which would have fallen 
to his share, had it been a deer or a buffalo, he did 
not get. Our young hunters had eaten bear paws 
before ; and of course reserved these delicate mor- 
sels to themselves. 

As soon as breakfast was finished, and their ani- 
mals had been led to the water, the brothers met 
together in a “ council of three.” It was necessary 
to take into consideration how they should now act. 
Their circumstances were veiy much altered. The 
whole of their provisions of dried meat, flour, and 
coffee had been dropped by Jeannette in her flight, 
and, of course, eaten up or destroyed by the javalies. 
Henceforth they would have to depend entirely on 
their guns to supply them. The loss of their tent did 
not vex them, as in the fine summer weather, which 
they then had, they thought nothing of sleeping in the 
open air. But to be deprived of their coffee, that 
much-prized luxury of the prairie traveller, was a 
great chagrin. However, as Basil observed, they 
would have to get along without it. It would not be 
long before they should come across the buffalo, and 
with the delicious “ hump-ribs ” in plenty, hunters 
rarely long for other luxuries. All three felt satisfied 
that the buffalo range was not far off, and that by 
keeping due westward they would soon be gratifieu 
with the "^ight of large droves of these animals. 


JERKING A BEAR. 


189 


They resolved, however, to act with caution. They 
had heard that many tracts of the prairfes are almost 
barren of game. With this fact before their minds, 
they were not going to leave so much good food be- 
hind them as appeared to be in the carcass of the 
bear. She therefore must be “ jerked,” and packed 
upon Jeannette, in lieu of the load which the latter 
had kicked off. So, with these intentions, Basil and 
Fran9ois set to skinning her, while Lucien com* 
menced collecting dry wood for a large fire. Of 
course they intended staying another night in the 
same camp, as it would take a day, at least, to “ jerk ” 
the bear meat. 

The bear was soon skinned and cut up into thin 
slices and strips — for. that is the mode adopted in 
jerking,” or preserving without salt. It is usual to 
cure the meat by simply hanging it over poles or 
lines in a hot sun, where it will dry sufficiently in 
three days, so that there will be no risk of its spoiling 
afterwards. But our adventurers did not wish to be 
detained so long, and therefore adopted arlother mode 
of curing it — that was by “barbecuing” it slightly 
over a fire. This was the plan : A shallow pit was 
scooped out in the ground, and across it were laid 
green saplings, parallel to each other. Into the pit 
Iv^ere thrown embers and red cinders, so as to give up 
a considerable heat. Upon the saplings thin slices 
of the meat were laid, — as on a gridiron, — so that 
they might become dried and slightly toasted at the 
same time. Meat cured in this way will keep foi 
i»onths; and the Indians and hunters usually adopt 


190 


JERKING A BEAR. 


this plan when they have no time to wait for a regu« 
lar “jerking.” 

Th'e second cub was singed, and cut up without 
skinning, as pork usually is. It was roasted, to be 
ready for eating at once — as* they designed bringing 
it “ to the table ” before many hours. 

While the meat was drying, Basil melted some of 
the fat in the kettle, which fortunately was one of the 
utensils that still remained. With this fat — which 
beyond a doubt was genuine hear'^s grease — he 
anointed poor Jeannette’s shanks, that had beeii 
almost clean skinned by the teeth of the javalies. 
She had been suffering with them ever since, and 
the application of the bear’s grease seemed to give 
her great relief. 


A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE. 


191 


CHAPTER XX. 

A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE. 

When night came again the young hunters went 
ka sleep by the fire. As it had suddenly grown chilly, 
they lay with their feet towards it, such being the 
usual practice of hunters when sleeping by a fire. 
When the feet are warm, the remainder of the body 
can easily be kept so ; but, on the contrary, when 
one’s feet become cold, it is scarcely possible to 
sleep. They were not troubled with cold, and all 
three were soon sleeping soundly. 

From the necessity of supplying the barbecue every 
now and then with fresh embers, a large fire had been 
kept up during the day. It still continued to blaze 
and crackle in a bright red pile. The meat remained 
resting upon the saplings, where it had I een placed 
to dry. 

No one had thought of keeping watch. When 
camping out at night, in their hunting expeditions in 
the swamps of Louisiana, they had not accustomed 
themselves to this habit, and they did not think of its 
being necessary here. It is the fear of Indians alone 
that causes the prairie traveller to keep sentry during 
the livelong night ; but our young hunters had much 
less fear of them than might be supposed. There 
had been as yet no hostilities in this quarter between 


192 


A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE. 


whites and Indians ; besides, Basil knew that he 
carried a token of friendship should the latter come 
upon them. 

They had not been more than half an hour asleep 
when a growl from Marengo awoke them They a.» 
started up into a sitting posture, and looked anxious- 
ly out into the darkness. They could see nothing 
stmnge. The great trunks of the trees, with the long 
silvery moss of whitish hue, were glistening in the 
light of the still blazing fire. All the space between 
was gloomy and black as ebony. They could hear 
nothing that sounded strange. There was not a 
breath of air stirring, so that the trees were still and 
silent, as if asleep. Only up among their leaves and 
high tops, the tree frogs (Jiyloidea) and cicadas kept 
up their continuous music. Amid their numerous 
and varied calls could be distinguished the “ ll-l-luk ” 
of the tree toad, {liyla versicolor ;) and from the 
aquatic plants, that lined the spring close by, came 
the merry chirrup of the hylodes grillus^ or “ savan- 
na cricket.” Far up among the leaves of the oaks 
the little green tree frog repeated his tinkling, bell-like 
note, that fell with a pleasant sound upon the ear. 
But all these were the usual voices of the night, — the 
voices of the southern forest, — and they produced 
no strange impression upon the listening hunters. 
The call of the liyla^ indeed, loud and oft-repeated 
as it was, warned them that a rain storm was near ; 
and the darkness of the sky above confirmed :he 
warning. 

But it was not these sounds that had caused Ma^ 
rengo to spring up with such a savage growl ; and 


A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE. 


193 


ihe boys continued attei lively listening, to discovei 
what it could have been. 

The dark aisles of the forest sparkled with moving 
lights. The fireflies were abroad in thousands, and 
i :eir phosphoric lamps — more than usually lumin- 
ous — also betokened the approach of a rain storm. 

As the young hunters gazed, other lights attracted 
their attention, causing them to hold their guns in 
readiness. These lights were very different from 
those of the insects. They were low down, near the 
surface of the ground. They were round, of a fiery 
green lustre, and appeared in motion. Now they 
remained shining steadily for some- moments, then 
they disappeared, but immediately shone out afresh 
in some other place. There were many of them 
moving about. They were not fireflies. 

Gur hunters knew what they were : they were 
the eyes of animals — of wild heasts ! This they 
knew, but no more. What sort of animals they 
might be was a thing about w'hich they were all three 
ignorant; and this uncertainty veiy naturally filled 
them with dread. They might be hears^ wolverines, 
or panthers. 

The boys talked in whispers, looking to the locks 
of their pieces, an'^ preparing themselves for the 
worst. They were, of course, already seen by the 
animals, sitting as they did in the light of the fire. 
Marengo stood by, looking into the darkness, and at 
intervals uttering the growl with which he was ac- 
customed to hail the presence of an enemy. 

The shining eyes appeared to multiply. All at 
dog was heard to utter three distinct barks 
17 


once a 


194 


A NOCTURNAL ADVENTU'kR. 


Was it a dog ? No. The long and piteous hovn 
that followed told that the animal was no dog, but a 
wolf — the larking wolf^ [canis latrans.) The mo* 
ment it had ceased, another took up the strain, anu 
tlien another and another, until the woods rang on al! 
sides with their hideous howls. This did not come 
from any particular side, but seemed every where ; 
and as the boys looked into the dark aisles between 
the tree trunks, they could perceive glancing eyes — 
a perfect circle of them all around ! 

“ Bah ! ” cried Basil, now breaking silence, “ it’s 
only a pack of prairie wolves. Who cares for their 
howling ? ” 

The minds of all were thus set at rest. They 
had no fear of prairie wolves ; which, though fierce 
enough when attacking some poor deer or wounded 
buffalo, are afraid of any thing in the shape of man, 
and will skulk off whenever they think the latter has 
any intention to attack them. This, however, is 
seldom the case, as the prairie hunter does not care 
to waste a bullet upon them ; and they are often 
permitted to follow, and squat themselves unmolested 
around the hunter’s camp, within reach of his rifle. 

The prairie wolves are much smaller than any 
other species of wolf found in America. They are 
not much larger than English" terriers, and quite as 
cunning as the English fox. They can hardly be 
caught or trapped in any way, though they can be 
easily run down with* horses and dogs. They are of 
a dull reddish hue, mixed with a grizzle of whit* 
hairs. This is their usual color, though, like othe 
animalsj there are varieties. They have thick, bushi 


A VOCTURNAL ADVENTURE. 


191 


ails, bVdck at the tips, and one third the length of 
JiCT bodies. They resemble the dogs found among 
.he prairie Indians, of which they are, no doubt, the 
progenitors. They are met with throughout all the 
regions from the Mississippi westward to the Pacific, 
and southward into Mexico. They hunt in packs, like 
the jackals ; and will run down deer, buffaloes, or 
any other animals which they think they can master. 
They dare not attack a buffalo in the herd, though 
packs of them always follow a drove of these animals. 
They wait until some one gets separated — a young 
calf, or, perhaps, a decrepit old bull, which they fall 
upon and worry to pieces. They follow all parties 
of hunters and travellers — taking possession of a 
camp ground the moment its occupants have moved 
out, and devouring every scrap of eatables that may 
have been left behind. They will even, sometimesj 
steal into the camp by night, and appropriate th(5 
very morsel which the hunter had designed for his 
breakfast in the morning. This sometimes leads to a 
spirit of retaliation ; and the indignant hunter, grow- 
ing less provident of his powder and lead, cracks 
away until he has laid several of them stretched along 
the grass. 

They are more numerous than any other species 
of American wolves ; and, on this account, — having 
so many mouths to feed, and so many stomachs to 
satisfy, — they often suffer from . extreme hunger. 
Then, but not till then, they will eat fruits, roots, and 
vegetables, in short, any thing that may sustain life. 

These wolves take their trivial name from their 
being met 'W ith principally on the great prairies of the 


896 


A. NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE. 


west, although other species of American wolvei 
are found in the prairie country as well as they 
They are sometimes called “ barking ” wolves, be" 
cause, as we have noticed, the first two or three notes 
of their howl resemble the bark of a dog. It ends, 
however, in a prolonged and disagreeable scream. 

“1 am glad it is they,” said Lucien, in reply to 
Basil’s remark. “ K is well it is no worse. I was 
afraid it was our friends the javalies, who had Come 
to pay us a visit.” 

“ Bad enough as it is,” said Basil. “ We shall 
now have to keep awake, and guard the meat, or 
these skulking jackals would not leave us an ounce 
of it by morning.” 

“ That is true enough,” replied Lucien ; “ but we 
need not all watch. You and Fran9ois go to sleep. 
I’ll stand sentry.” 

“ No,” responded Basil. “ Go you and Fran9ois 
to sleep. Let me keep watch.” 

“ Brothers,” said Fran9ois, “ I am not a bit sleepy ; 
let me be the sentry. I’ll keep ’em off.” 

“ No, no,” exclaimed Basil and Lucien, in a 
breath, “I — I.” 

It was finally agreed that Basil should take the 
watch for a couple of hours or so, until he became 
sleepy, when he was to awake and be relieved oy 
Lucien; who, in his turn, could arouse Fran9ois. 
This being arranged, the two latter wrapped them- 
selves in their blankets, and lay down again, while 
Basil sat alone, now gazing into the fire, and then 
into the gloomy darkness beyond. 

Both Lucien and Fran9ois, notwithstanding the 


A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE. 19*7 

declaration of the latter, were soon snoring like a 
brace of tops. They had had an early awaking by 
the bear scrape of the previous morning ; beside.i, 
^hey had been at work all day, and were wearied. 
This they must have been, to have gone to sleep with 
such a discordant howling around them — enough lo 
have kept an opium-eater awake. Basil was wearied, 
as well as they ; and he soon began to feel what a 
painful thing it is to keep awake when one is sleepy. 
The eyes of the wolves continued, to glare upon him 
from all sides ; but he did not dread them any more 
than if they had been so many hares. There ap- 
peared to be a very large pack of them, though. 
The odoriferous bear meat had, no doubt, collected 
all there were for miles around, in addition to num- 
bers that had been following the trail for days past. 
As Basil watched them, he saw they were growing 
bo. ^er, and gradually approaching nearer. At length, 
some of them came upon the spot where lay the 
bones of the bear at some distance out from the hre. 
These they attacked at once ; and through the dim 
light, Basil could see them rushing from all quarters, 
to come in for a share. He could hear the bones 
cracking under their teeth, and . could see them strug- 
gling and worrying the skeleton and each other 
in a moving mass. This soon ended. The bones 
were scraped clean in a twinkling; and the wolves 
now left them, and scattered over the ground as 
before. 

“ Come,” soliloquized Basil, “ I must have more 
light ; they may steal a march upon me ; ” and he 
rose up, and threw several armfuls of wood upon the 

17 # 


198 


A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE. 


fire, winch soon blazed up again, reflecting the yellon 
eyes of the wolves in dozens of pairs all around him 
This helped to brighten Basil a little, and keep hin» 
awake ; but he sat down again by the fire, and soon 
became drowsy as before. Every now and then he 
caught himself nodding ; and each time, as he shook 
himself awake, ho noticed that the wolves had ven- 
tured nearer to the bear meat. He could easily have 
shot any one of them, and thus driven them off for 
a time ; but he did not wish either to waste his am- 
munition or startle his companions. 

As he sat cogitating how he would best keep 
wake, an idea came into his head which caused him 
to leap to his feet, as if he intended to execute some 
purpose. 

“ I have it now,” said he to himself, placing his 
rifle against a tree. “ I’ll get a good nap yet, in 
spite of these filthy yelpers. Strange we didn’t think 
of the plan before.” 

He took up a lasso, and proceeding to the barbe- 
cue, which was close by, commenced laying all the 
pieces of bear meat on one end of the rope. This 
did not occupy him long ; and when he had bundled 
all, and looped them securely together, he flung the 
other end of the lasso over a high branch, until it 
hung down so that he could reach it. He now pul- 
leyed up the meat, until it was ten feet or more from 
the ground, and then fastened his rope to a log. 

“Now, gentlemen,” muttered he, fancifully ad- 
dressing ths wolves, “ you may prowl about and howl 
till your throats are sore ; but you don’t keep me five 
minutes longer fr^m my rest — that ; ou don’t.” 


A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE. 

So saying, he laid himself down, and commenced 
n^rapping himself in his blankets. 

“ Ha ! ” he continued, as he caught a glimpse of 
several of the animals running forward and looking 
upwards at the swinging meat ; “ ha. Messieurs 
Loups ! don’t you wish you may get it ? Ha ! ha I 
ha ! Good night ! ” 

So speaking and laughing, he stretched himself 
alongside his brothers, and in five minutes’ time was 
snoring as loudly as either of them. 

But Basil, w'ith all his craft, was not so cunning 
upon the present occasion as he thought himself — 
not half so cunning as the wolves, whom he believed 
he had outwitted. The latter, seeing that he had gone 
to sleep, boldly drew nearer and nearer, until scores 
of them covered the spot over which hung the meat. 
Here they ran^ about, tumbling over each other, and 
all looking upward. They remained silent, however, 
lest they might awake the sleepers. Some sat quietly 
on their hams, with eyes fixed on the tempting morsel, 
but not making ar.y effort to get at it, as they knew 
it was beyond their reach. These were, no doubt, 
the older and wiser ones. Others kept trying their 
prowess in lofty leaping ; but although the most active 
of them could get their noses within a few inches of 
the meat, it only tantalized them the more. One, 
however, who seemed the best jumper of the pack, 
at last succeeded in snatching a small piece that 
hung lower than the main bunch. He was imme- 
diately set upon, as soon as he had touched the 
ground, and chased and worried by the rest, until 


2U0 


A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE. 


he was giad to drop the morsel to save himself. His 
success, however, emboldened others to try ; and 
they went on springing upward as before, but to no 
purpose. 

A new idea, however, seemed now to have got into 
the heads of the older ones — they who, up to this 
time, had sat looking on. Several of these ran to- 
wards the log, where the lasso was tied, and seizing 
the latter in their teeth, commenced gnawing it ! It 
did not take them long to accomplish their purpose. 
In less than two minutes’ time, the heavy mass came 
down with a dead sound upon the shoulders of one 
of the pack, causing him to howl fearfully ! 

Marengo, who had been alert all this time, now 
growled louder than ever ; and the combined noises 
awoke the three sleepers. Basil saw what it was, 
and starting up, seized his rifle and ran forward fc’ 
lowed by Fran9ois and Lucien. 

All three dashed in among the wolves, firing their 
pieces as they ran, and then rushing on them with 
“clubbed” guns. The animals, of course, took to 
their heels, and scattered in every direction ; but 
some of them, in their flight, did not fail to carry 
off choice pieces of the bear meat. Two were killed 
by the rifle bullets ; and a third, which Franpois had 
peppered with shot, was overtaken and worried to 
death by Marengo. 

The meat was soon gathered up ; and Basil — who, 
though somewhat chagrined, was still confident of 
his plan — once more looped it in the lasso, ana 
Dulleyed it up. This time, however, he tied the end 


A NOCTURNAL AUVENTURfi. 


901 


of his rope to the high branch of a tree ; and as the 
wolves are not tree climbers, all felt certain that, 
cunning as these creatures are, they could not reach 
it, thus secured. 

After throwing TTore wo'td } % the fire, the three 
brothers again took to tneir manRets, expecting that 
nothing would occur to disturb i^hem before the 
esoming. 


THE CIRCLE OF FIRE. 


mi 


till AAl. 

iriE UIKCLB W FIRE. 

Thj-T expectation, however, was a vain one. Foot 
L ids! they little thought what was before them. 
1 heir nerves were to be tried still further, and by as 
severe a test as they had yet endured. The wolves 
howled fearfully around the camp, and their eyes 
still shone through the gloom. But this would not 
have kept the boys from sleeping, had their attention 
not been called to another sound — the voice of a 
far different creature. They heard it amidst the 
bowlings of the wolves, and knew it at once, for it 
resembled not these. It was more like the squalling 
of an angry cat, but far louder, fiercer, and more 
terrible. Jt was the scream of the cougar ! 

I say that the young hunters recognized the voice 
of this animal at once ; for they had heard it while 
hunting in the forests of Louisiana, although they 
had never been exposed to its attack. From ample 
testimony, however, they knew its power and fierce 
nature, and were therefore terrified by its scream — 
os men of strongest nerves had often been before 
them. 

When its cry first reached their ears, it appeared 
feeble and distant — not louder than the mewing of 
B kitten. The animal was evidently far off in the 


THE CIRCLE OF FIFE. 


/orest. They knew, however, that it could soon trav 
erse the ground that lay between it anrl their camp 
They listened. A second scream sounded nearei 
They sprang to their feet, and listened again. A 
third call appeared more distant. This, however, 
arose from a misconception on their part — they for- 
get that their ears were now farther from the ground. 
. They stood a moment, gazing on each other with 
looks of terror and apprehension. What was to' be 
done ? 

“ Shall we mount out horses, and fly } ” asked 
Basil. 

“ We know not what way to go,” suggested Lu- 
cien. “We may ride right into its teeth ! ” 

This was likely enough ; for it is a singular fact 
that the scream of the cougar, like the roar of the 
lion, seems to come from any or every side. It is 
difficult to tell in what direction the animal is who 
utters it. Whether this illusion be produced by the 
terror of the listener is a question yet unsolved. 

“ What can we do ? ” said Basil. “ Taking to a 
tree is of no use. These animals can climb like 
squirrels. What can we do } ” 

Lucien stood silent, as if considering. 

“ I have read,” said he, at length, “ that the cougar 
will not cross fire. It is the case with most animals, 
although there are exceptions. Let us try that 
Hush! listen!” 

All three remained silent. Again the cougar ut* 
.ered his wild note, still far off*. 

“You hear,” continued Lucien; “he is distant 
yet. Perhajs he is not coming this way. It is best 


204 


THE CmCL 


IRE. 


nowever. to be prepared while we have lime. Lei 
us trv tne circle of Jire ! '■ 

Both Basil ana hrangois understood what theif 
brother meant. All three flung down their rifles 
ard, rushing among the trees, collected dry wood 
in armfuls. Fortunately, this was in abundance 
near the spot. Some dead trees had fallen long 
ago ; and their branches, breaking into pieces as 
they fell, covered the ground with numerous frag- 
ments just fit for firewood. In the large pile already 
blazing, there was no lack of kindling stuff ; and in a 
few minutes a complete circle of fires, almost touch- 
ing one another, burned upon the ground. 

The boys had lost no time, working as if for theii 
lives. It was well they did so ; for the voice of the 
cougar, that they had heard at intervals, each time 
growing louder, now. echoed through the aisles of 
the forest, drowning all other sounds. Strange to 
say, the howling of the wolves suddenly ceased, and 
these creatures were no longer to be heard. But 
there were other sounds audible — the stamping and 
snorting of the terrified horses. The young hunters, 
up to this time, had not thought of the safety of these 
poor animals. It was now too late to relieve them — 
the cougar was within a hundred yards of the camp ! 

All three, along with Marengo, placed themselves 
within the circle of fire. Fortunately, there was no 
wind, — not a breath, — and the smoke rose vertically 
upward, leaving them a breathing space within. There 
they stood, guns in hand. Around them the fires 
blazed and crackled ; but above the snapping of the 
knots, and the Jiiss of the spirting, piping tree gas, 


^ THE CIRCLE OF FIRE. 


205 


tould \Ai heard the wild cry of the cous^ar f It now 
became evident on what side the ammai was ; for, as 
the young hunters peered through the smoke and 
blaze, they could distinguish the yellow, catlike 3ody, 
moving to and fro under the hanging meat. The 
rounded head, the long, hollow back, the smooth, tawny 
skin, were not to be mistaken. As if to add to their 
terrible situation, the boys now saw that not one, hut a 
patr, of these fearful creatures were upon the ground, 
moving backward and forward, passing each other, 
and looking eagerly up at the meat where it hung. 

It now occurred to the hunters what an oversight 
they had made in not cutting down the meat. Had 
they done so, the cougars would, no doubt, ha’^e de- 
voured it, and moved off after satisfying their hungv-. . 
A-las ! it was too late for such a thought. 

For several minutes the animals continued to walk 
oackward and forward, eagerly eying the tempting 
object above them. Several times they sprang up, 
as if to seize it ; but their efforts fell far short, and 
they desisted. One of them now ran up the tree, to 
which the lasso was fastened. His claivs could be 
heard rattling upon the bark as he sprang upward. 
He first climbed to the branch over which the bear 
meat hung. This he shook with violence, looking 
downward, to see if the suspended object would fall. 
Disappointed, he left this after a time, and came 
down to the other branch, where the lasso was tied in 
a knot. Here he again seized the rope in his claws, 
and shook it with violence, but with a like result, 
Although he had the advantage of the wolves in being 
able to climb the tree, he had not their cunning, else 
18 


THE CIRCLE OF FIRE. 


206 

'w'ould so('n have let the meat down by cutting the 
rope with his teeth. 'J'his idea, however, belonged to 
a higher development of brain than his ; and, after 
seizing the lasso several times, and shaking it as be- 
fore, he returned to the ground to his mate, who had 
sat all the while watching his manoeuvres. 

These efforts to reach the meat occupied nearly 
an hour. During all that time the boys stood within 
the circle of fre, in the most distressing situation. 
They were half roasted by the heat, that had been 
all along increasing, as the black logs burned into red 
embers. They had made their circle too small ; and 
they stood as in the midst of a f ^ery furnace ! 

The smoke had partially cleared away, and they 
could witness every movement of the cougars ; but 
the terrible heat that oppressed them had almost con- 
quered their fear of these animals ; and little would 
now have tempted them to rush forth and battle with 
them. The perspiration ran from every pore, ana 
their guns felt like bars of hot iron. 

“ I can stand it no longer,” cried Basil ; “ let us 
fire at them, rush out, and take our chance.” 

“ Patience, brother,” replied Lucien. “ One mo- 
ment longer. Perhaps they may go away.” 

As Lucien spoke, the cougars, who had now given 
up the bear’s meat, stealthily approached the fire. 
They crept forward like cats, when stealing upon 
their prey. At intervals they uttered a strange 
sound, like thq low cough of a person in consump- 
tion. They gave forth another sound, which fell 
equally strange upon the ears of the hunters. It 
•tjsembled the purring of a cat when caressed, but 


THE CIRCLE OF FIRE. 


207 


was much louder, and, in the forest, now silent, could 
be heard at a considerable distance. ' It was too plainly 
heard by those who were near. Both uttered it, 
as if to encourage one another in their approach ; 
and they kept crawling on, waving their tails as they 
advanced. When within a few feet of the fire, they 
stopped, and laid themselves almost flat along the 
ground, yet evidently prepared to spring forward at 
any moment. It was a terrible sight to lock upon 
these fierce creatures as they lay. The light of the 
great fire made every part of them fearfully apparent. 
Their claws, their teeth, half uncovered, and even the 
bright irides of their shining eyes were seen distinctly. 
But they looked not half so fearful as at first. The 
young hunters now contemplated them from a differ- 
ent point of view. They were suffering, where they 
stood, so fearfully, that there seemed no danger be- 
yond that hot circle of fire — not even from the claws 
of a cougar. 

“ I shall stand it no longer,” cried Basil. “ We’ll 
be roasted outright. You, brothers, take that one ; I’ll 
aim at this — so — now — fear not — fire ! ” 

As Basil ceased speaking, the three cracks sounded 
almost together ; and, as soon as they had fired, all 
three leaped out of the blazing cordon. Whether 
Lucien and Fran9ois had missed their aim was not 
known until afterwards ; but Basil had not missed 
his. He had wounded the cougar ; and scarcely had 
the young hunters got clear of the fiery circle, when 
the infuriated animal sprang into it, and was seen, 
now upon its feet, and now rolling over the ground in 
ttio ihroes of death. Marengo attacked it ; but both 


208 


THE CIRCLE OF FIRE. 


got among the red cinders, and the dog was fain lo 
make his escape out again. The cougar, left to it- 
self, soon ceased its struggles, and lay upon the 
ground, to all appearance, dead. 

But what of the other ? 

As all three stood listening, the snorting and stamp- 
ing of horses fell upon their ears, and above all was 
heard the squealing of the mule Jeannette ! This 
lasted foi a few minutes, and at length all was silent 
as before. 

“ Poor Jeannette ! ” thought they. “ The othei 
has made a meal of her. Well — we must do with- 
out her ; that’s all.” 

They kept watch until daybreak, still fearful that 
the cougar might come back for its mate. The rain 
had now begun to fall, and poured down in torrents, 
drowning out their fires. They did not attempt to 
rekindle them ; but stood, with their blankets around 
their shoulders, sheltering themselves as they best 
-oould, under the trees. 

When the daylight came, what was their surprise, 
as well as joy, to see Jeannette quietly browsing at the 
end of her trail rope, and close by her the body of 
the cougar, lying dead upon the ground ! It had been 
wounded by the shots ; but that, as they soon ascor- 
taincd, was not the cause of its death, for its body 
was crushed and its ribs broken ! For some time 
they could not understand this. At length, however, 
it was explained to them. The situation in which the 
animal was found enabled them to clear up the n^ys- 
ter5% It was lying by the foot of a large tree, against 
which, no doubt, it had got the squeeze that had 


THE CIRCLE OF FiRE. 


2» ^ 

killed it. Whi’ie retreating it had sprung upon Jean- 
nette , and the latter, in her endeavors to escape, had, 
in the darkness, rushed violently against the tree, 
crushing the cougar, and killing it instantly. 

The fierce brute had left the trace of Its claws 
upon Jeannette’s back and withers ; and a deep gash 
under her throat showed where its teeth had been 
buried. It was fortunate for the mule she had rushed 
against the tree, else the cougar would have held on 
until he had drunk the lifeblood from her veins — as 
this is the mode by which these animals put theit 
prey to death. 

It was now morning ; but the young hunters, having 
been awake nearly all the night, were weary, and 
could have gone to rest. This, however, they did 
not think prudent. They believed they had got them- 
selves into a part of the forest where there were 
many dangerous creatures, and they came to the de- 
termination to shift their camp, and travel as far from 
the spot as possible before night. The truth is, they 
were upon a timbered stream — an affluent of the 
Trinity River ; and as the latter was, at this season, 
overflowed, all the wild animals — bears, cougars, 
wolves, lynxes, and javalies — had been driven out 
of the low bottoms, and were roaming through the 
adjacent woods, more hungry and fierce than they 
commonly are. 

Having saddled their horses, and packed Jeannette 
with their robes, blankets, and meat, our adventurers 
again took the route westward. After proceeding a 
few miles they issued from the woods, and struck out 
into the open prairie. 

18 * 


N 


210 


THE LONE MOUWC 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE LONE MOUND. 

Their route led them through one of those lovely* 
landscapes which are met with only in this southe 
region — a Jlower prairie. They travelled in th 
midst of flowers. Flowers were before them, behind, 
and on every side. Their shining corollas covered 
the prairie as far as the eye could see. There were 
golden sunflowers, (helianfM,) and red malvas, eu- 
phorbias, and purple lupines. There were the rose- 
colored blossoms of the wild althea, and the brilliant 
orange of Californian poppies, glancing among the 
green leaves like so many balls of fire, while lower 
upon the surface grew the humble violas, sparkling 
like azure gems. 

The glorious sun was shining over all ; and the 
late rain that had washed them seemed to have added 
»o the fragrance and brilliancy. Millions of butter- 
flies flew over them, or rested in their soft cups, not 
•ess brilliant than the flowers themselves. Some of 
these were of vast dimensions, their downy wings 
speckled and striped with varied and gorgeous tints. 
There were other insects of gay colors and glancing 
wings. The giant spider fly flew around, now poised 
on whirring wing, and now darting off like a thread 
of lightning to some other part of the boundless 


THi LONE mOTJND. 


211 


garden.* There were bees, too, and bee birds hum 
oiiug from flower to flower, and robbing their rich nec- 
taries. Now and then partridges and rufled grouse 
whirred up before the horses ; and Fran9ois suc- 
ceeded in shooting a brace of the latter, and hanging 
them behind his saddle. 

Through these great flower beds our travellers roce 
on, crushing many a beautiful corolla under their 
horses’ hoofs. Sometimes the flowers grew upon tall 
stalks that stood thickly together, and reached up tc 
the shoulders of the horses, completely hiding them 
from the view of one at a distance. Sometimes the 
travellers passed through beds of helianthi alone, 
whose large heads, brushing against their thighs, 
covered them with yellow pollen dust. 

It was, all together, a rare and beautiful landscape , 
and the young hunters would have enjoyed it much, 
had they not been suffering from weariness and want 
of sleep. The fragrance of the flowers seemed at 
first to refresh them ; but after a while they became 
sensible of a narcotic influence which it exercised 
over them, as they felt more sleepy than ever. They 
would have encamped among them, but there was no 
water; and without water they could not remain. 
There was no grass, either, for their animals ; as, 
strange to say, upon these flower prairies grass is 
seldom met with. The flower stalks usurp the soil, 
and no turf is ever found about their roots. The 
travellers, therefore, were compelled to ride on, unti^ 
they should reach some spot having grass and water 
— two of the necessary requisites of a “ night camp.” 

After proceeding about ten miles, the flowers began 


212 


THE LONE MOUND. 


to appear more thinly scattered over the surface, and 
at length declined into the grass prairie. Two o.. 
three miles farther brought our adventurers to a smsill 
“ spring branch,” that ran through the open plain, 
with no timber upon its banks, except a few willows. 
Here they were glad to halt for the night, and they 
dismounted, and staked their animals upon the tempt- 
ing sward. 

All three were weary, and could have slept ; but 
they were hungry as well, and must first eat ; so they 
set about preparing supper. The willows were green, 
and would not burn very well ; but by dint of perse- 
verance, they managed to make a fire. Fran9ois’ 
grouse were plunged into the kettle. These, seasoned 
with wild onions, nasturtium, and prairie turnips,— 
which Lucien had gathered along the route, — made a 
dish that was far from unpalatable. The stock of bear 
meat was not touched, with the exception of a small 
piece, which, with the heads and other refuse parts 
of the grouse, formed the supper of Marengo. Aa 
soon as they had finished eating, the hunters spread 
their buffalo robes upon the grass, and, drawing their 
blankets over them, went off into a sound sleep. 

This night they were not disturbed. When awake, 
they could hear the howling of wolves upon the dis- 
tant prairie, and near their camp. But they were 
used to this serenading music, and did not regard it. 
All three slept soundly throughout the livelong night. 

They were awake by gray dawn, and felt quite 
refreshed. They watered their horses, ami prepared 
their breakfast of jerked bear meat. This is not bad 
lating at any time ; but to appetites like theirs it wa» 


TH^ uONE MOUND. 


n luxurj' indeed, and they broke their fast cleverly 
enough, eating nearly a pound apiece. They aU 
felt quite merry and jocund. Marengo was merry 
though the claws of the cougar had scored his counte- 
nance sadly. Jeannette, too, frisked about, kicking at 
the flies as she fed. Basil had given her shanks a 
fresh touch of the bear’s grease, and the scars which 
the cougar had made were likely to cicatrize speedily. 
They remained all next day by that sweet spring, and 
enjoyed another night of undisturbed rest. On the 
second morning they continued their journey, and in 
a few days reached the “ Cross Timbers ” — those 
celebrated groves that have so long puzzled the 
speculations of the curious naturalist. Our travellers 
did not remain long by them, as they saw no signs 
of the buffalo, but kept still farther to the west, cross- 
ing the head waters of numerous streams that run 
into the River Brazos. 

About the third day after leaving the Cross Tim- 
bers, they encamped on one of these streams, — a 
veiy small one, — that meandered through the prairie, 
without any timber upon its banks. But our travel- 
lers did not feel the want of this, as they could make 
their fire out of an article the sight of which had 
been gladdening their eyes during the whole of that 
day’s journey. It was the hois de vache, or buffalo 
“chips,” as it is called by the trappers; and they 
knew that where this was found, the buffaloes them* 
Be ves would not be far off. They had now got within 
the range of these animals, and might expect to fall 
ji with them at any moment. 

As soon as the next day dawned, the eyes ot oui 


214 


THE LONE MOUND. 


hunters sought the prairie ; but as yet no buffaloca 
were in sight. Nothing could be seen but the green, 
treeless plain, stretching on all sides as if to the very 
sky. Only one object could be observed that gave a 
variety to the aspect around. This was an eminence 
that rose over the sealike surface of the prairie, 
called, in the language of the hunters, a “ butte.” 
It appeared ten miles distant at least, and seemed to 
stand alone, its steep sides rising like cliffs above the 
prairie level. It lay in the course they had hitherto 
been travelling. 

“ Shall we make for it ? ” asked they of one another. 

“ What better can we do ? ” said Basil. “ We 
are as likely to meet the buffalo in that direction as 
in any other. We have no guide now ; so we must 
trust to our good fortune to lead us to them, or them 
to us, which is about the same thing, I fancy.” 

“ O, let us ‘ catch up,’ ” advised Fran 9 ois, “ and 
ride for the butte. We may find buffalo near it.” 

“ But what if we find no water } ” suggested the 
ever-prudent Lucien. 

“ That is not likely,” returned Fran9ois. “ I’ll 
warrant there’s water ; there generally is where there 
are mountains, I believe; and yonder butte might 
almost be called a mountain. I’ll warrant there’s 
water.” 

“ If there’s not,” added Basil, “ we can return 
here.” 

“ But, orothers,” said Lucien, “ you know not the 
distance of that eminence.” 

Ten miles, I should think,” said Basil. 

^ Not more, certainly,” added Fran9cis. 


THE LOME i OOND. 


215 


“ It IS thirty, if an inch,” quietly remarked Lucion. 

“ Thirty ! ” exclaimed the others ; “ thirty miles ! 
Tou are jesting, are you not ? Why, I could almost 
hy my hand upon it ! ” 

“ That is a misconception of yours,” rejoined the 
phLosopher. “ You are both calculating distances as 
you would in the low, dense atmosphere of Louisiana. 
Remember you are now four thousand feet above the 
level of the sea, and surrounded by one of the purest 
and most translucent atmospheres in the world. Ob- 
jects cap be seen double the distance that you could 
see them on the banks of the Mississippi. That butte, 
which you think is only ten miles off, appears to me 
fifteen, or rather more ; and I therefore calculate that 
it is at least thirty miles distant from the spot where 
we now are.” 

“ Impossible ! ” exclaimed Basil, eying the butte. 

Why, I can see the seams of the rocks on its sides, 
and trees, I fancy, growing upon its top.” 

“ Well,” continued Lucien, “ with all that you’ll 
find I am not far from the mark. But let us strike 
for it, since you wish it. We shall meet with watei 
there', I suppose ; take notice, however, — we’ll have 
to journey all day before reaching it ; and we may 
consider ourselves fortunate if we get there before 
nightfall.” 

Lucien’s prudence was not too great. On the 
contrary, it was not even sufficient for the occasion. 
This arose from his want of experience on the prai- 
ries. If either he or his brothers had had a little 
more of this, they would have hesitated before striking 
out so boldly, and leaving the water behind them- 


216 


THE LONE MOUND. 


They would have known /lat, to make a long journey 
without the certainty of finding water at the end of 
it, is a risk that even the old hunters themselves 
will seldom undertake. These, from experience, well 
know the danger of being without water on the prai* 
ries. They dread it more than grizzly bears, oi 
panthers, or wolverenes, or even hostile Indiana 
The fear of thirst is to them the greatest of alj 
terrors. 

Our young hunters felt but little of this fear. It 
is true, they had all of them heard or read of the 
sufferings that prairie travellers sometimes endure 
from want of water. But people who live snugly at 
home, surrounded by springs, and wells, and streams, 
with cisterns, and reservoirs, and pipe^, and hydrants, 
and jets, and fountains playing at all times around 
them, are prone to underrate these sufferings — in 
fact, too prone — might I not say ? — to discredit 
every thing that does not come under the sphere of 
their own observation. They will readily believe that 
their cat can open a door latch, and their pig can be 
taught to play cards, and that their dog can do 
wonderful things savoring of something more than 
instinct. But these same people will shake their 
heads incredulously, when I tell them that the opos- 
sum saves herself from an enemy by hanging sus- 
pended to the tree branch by her tail, or that the 
bighorn will leap from a precipice lighting upon hia 
horns, or that the red monkeys can bridge a stream 
by joining themselves to one another by their tails. 

“ O, nonsense ! ” they exclaim ; “ these things are 
loo strange to be true.” And yet, when compared 


THE LONE MOUND. 


2n 

w^iin the tricks their cat and dog can play, anft 
even the little canary that flits about the drawing 
room, do they seem either strange or improbable } 
■rhe absent and distant are always regarded with 
wonder and incredulity, while familiar facts, in them- 
selves far more wonderful, neither excite curiosity nor 
challenge credulity. Who now regards the startling 
phenomenon of the electric wire otherwise than as a 
simple truth easily comprehended.? And yet there 
was a time — ah ! there was a time — when to have 
proclaimed this truth would have rendered you ?r 
me ridiculous. . There was a time, indeed, when it 
might have cost us our lives or our liberties. Re- 
member Galileo. 

I was saying, then, that people who live at home 
do not know what thirst is ; for home is a place where 
there is always water. They cannot comprehend 
what it is to be in the desert without this necessary 
element. Ha ! I know it ; and I give you my word 
for it, it is a fearful thing. 

Our young hunters had but a faint idea of its ter- 
rors. Hitherto their route had been through a well- 
watered region, scarcely ever running ten or a dozen 
miles without crossing some stream with timber upon 
it, which they could see a long way off, and thus 
guide themselves to the water ; but they little under- 
stood the nature of the country that was now before 
them. They knew not that they were entering upon 
the desert plains — those vast arid steppes that slope 
up to the foot of the Rocky Mountains — the Cordil 
ferns of the Northern Andes. 

’'"ronpois, rash and impetuous, never dreamed H 


218 


THE LONE MOUNP 


danger ; Basil, courageous, did not fear it ; L;cief 
had some misgivings, because he had heard or read 
more of it than the others. All, howevcir, were cu- 
rious to visit the strange, mound-looking eminence 
that rose out of the plain. This was quite natural. 
Even the rude savage and the matter-of-fact trappei 
often diverge from their course, impelled by a similar 
curiosity. 

The horses were watered and saddled ; Jeannette 
was packed ; the water gourds were filled ; and our 
adventurers, having mounted, rode forward for tb« 

“ butte.” 


TFE HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 


21S 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 

“There must be buffalo in this neighborhood,” 
til id Basil, looking to the ground as they rode on. 

^ These ‘ chips ’ are very fresh. They cannot have 
lain for many days. See ! there is a buffalo road 
covered with tracks.” 

As Basil said this, he pointed to a troughlike hol- 
low in the prairie, running as far as the eye could 
reach. It looked like the dry bed of a stream ; but 
the hoof tracks in the bottom showed that it was what 
he had caUed it — a buffalo road, leading, no doubt, 
to some ri>fer or watering-place. It was so deep that, 
in riding along it, the heads of our travellers were 
on a level w>\h the prairie. It had been thus hol- 
lowed out by the water during heavy rains, as the 
soil, previously tcosened by the hoofs of the buffaloes, 
was then carried off to the rivers. Such roads the 
buffaloes follow at rmes, thousands of them keeping 
in the same trail. They travel thus when they are ' 
migrating in search of better pastures or water — to 
which they know by experience the roads will con- 
duct them. 

Our hunters did not follow this road far, as there 
was no certainty that it would bring them to where 
the animals then were. They crossed over, and kepi 
on for the butte. 


220 


THE HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 


Voild ! ” cried Fran9ois ; “ what are these ? * 
Fran9ois pointed to several circular hollows that 
appeared in the prairie before them. 

“ Buffalo wallows, I declare ! ” said Basil. “ Some 
of them are quite fresh, too.” 

“ Buflhlo wallows ! ” echoed Fran9ois ; “ what are 
they ? ” 

“ Why, have you never heard of them, Frank } ” 
asked Basil. “ Places where the buffalo wallow and 
tumble like horses and farm cattle.” 

“ O, that’s it,” said Fran9ois ; “ but what do they 
do it for ? ” 

“ Well, that I don’t know. Perhaps Luce can 
tell.” 

“ Some say,” said Lucien, thus appealed to, “ they 
do it to scratch themselves, and get rid of the flies 
and other insects that annoy them. Others believe 
that they practise this curious exercise only by way 
of diversion.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” laughed Fran9ois. “ What funny 
fellows they must be ! ” 

“ There is yet another more curious explanation,” 
continued Lucien, “ which is this — that the buffaloes 
make these hollows to catch water when it rains, so 
that they may come back to them and drink.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” again laughed Fran9ois. “ I 
can’t believe that, brother.” 

“ I would not have you, neither,” said Lucien ; “ cf 
course the supposition is not true, as the buffalo is 
not an animal possessing sufficient intelligence for 
that. It is only offered as a curious suggestion. It 
is c?rtain, however, that the water collects in these 


THE HJNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 


221 


holes during rain time, and often remains there foi 
days ; and the buffaloes, wandering about, drink out 
of them. Therefore it may, in one sense, he truly 
said that the buffaloes dig their own wells ! These 
often prove of service to other animals, as well as 
those who have made them. Lost trappers and 
Indians have been saved by finding water in them, 
when otherwise they would have perished from 
thirst.” 

“ How very round they are ! ” said Fran9ois. 
“ Why, they are perfect circles ! How do the buf- 
faloes make them so } ” 

“ By laying themselves out at full length, and spin- 
ning round and round like a wagon wheel upon its 
nave. They revolve with great rapidity, using their 
humped shoulders as a pivot, and their legs as levers. 
They sometimes continue this motion for half an 
hour at a time. No doubt they do this, as has been 
said, to scratch themselves ; for notwithstanding their 
thick hides and hair, they are^ much annoyed by 
insect parasites. They do it, too, for amusement, or 
to give themselves pleasure, which is the same thing. 
You have often witnessed horses at a similar exercise ; 
and was it not evident that they took a pleasure in it ? 
Have you not fancied so ” 

“ O, yes,” cried Franpois, “ I am sure horses enjoy 
a good tumble.” 

“ Well, then, it is to be supposed the buffaloes do 
the same. Getting rid of their tormentors, and press 
mg their hot sides into the fresh, cool earth, is, no 
doubt, a source of enjoyment to them. They are 
not very cleanly ; as they are often seen wandering 
19 * 


222 the hunt of the wild horse. 

about so covered with dirt that one cannot tell whal 
color their hide is.” 

“ Well,” added Franyois, I hope we shall soon 
come across one with a white hide.” 

Talking after this fashion, our young hunters con- 
tinued their journey. They had ridden about ten 
miles, when Basil, whose eye was all the time wan- 
dering around the prairie horizon, uttered an excla- 
mation, and suddenly reined up his horse. The others, 
seeing him do so, stopped also. 

“ What do you see } ” asked Lucien. 

“ I do not know,” replied Basil ; “ but there is 
something yonder, upon the edge of the prairie — to 
the southward — do you see it } ” 

“ Yes ; it looks like a clump of low trees.” 

“ No,” said Basil, “ they are not trees. This mo-^ 
ment I saw one apart from the rest, and I do not see 
it now. It appeared to move in towards the mass. I 
fancy they are animals of some kind or other.” 

“ Buffaloes, I hope,” cried Franyois, raising him- 
self to his full height in the stirrups, and endeavoring 
to get a sight of them. But Franyois’ pony did not 
give him a sufficient elevation to enable him to see 
the objects ; and he was therefore compelled to with- 
hold an opinion as to what they might be. 

“ Should we ride towards them .? ” asked Lucien, 
addressing Basil. 

“ I think they are moving this way,” replied the 
latter. “ They extend more along the horizon, and 
that may be because they are getting nearer. Buffa 
.oes ! no — as I live,” continued he, elevating his 
voice, “ they are horsemen — perhaps mo inted In 
dians ! ” 


THE HUNT OF THE WILD HOUSE. 


223 


* Why do you think so ? ” inquired Luc’en, hur* 
nedly. 

“ I saw one between me and the sky. 1 can tell 
tlie shape of a horse as far as I can see him. I am 
sure it was one. Look 1 yonder goes another !” 

“ It is,” added Lucien ; “ it is a horse. But see I 
there is no rider — no one on his back ; and yonder’s 
another, also without a rider. Ha ! I know now 
they are mustangs ! ” 

“ Mustangs ! ” echoed Fran 9 ois ; “ good ! — that 
will be something worth seeing.” 

It soon proved that Lucien was right. It was a 
drove of mustangs, or wild horses. Basil was also 
right in saying that they were coming towards them ; 
for in a few moments they appeared to be within less 
than a mile, and approaching at a rapid gallop. 

They galloped closely together like a trained troop ; 
^find one could be perceived some lengths in the ad- 
vance, apparently acting as leader. Now and then 
one would shy out of the ranks, and rear a moment 
apart from the rest, but would return again, and fall 
in with his companions. It was a rare sight to see 
them as they came on ; and the ground thundered 
under their hoofs as though a squadron of cavalry 
was charging over it. 

When within less than half a mile of the party, 
they seemed to notice the latter for the first time. 
All at once the foremost halted, threw up his head 
with a snort, and stood still. The others stopped, 
imitating the example of their leader. The latter 
was still some paces in the advance ; while the 
breasts of his followers seemed to form a compact 


224 


THE HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 


front, like cavalry in line of battle ! After standing 
still for a few seconds, the leader ottered a shrill 
neigh, shied to the right, and dashed off at fuh 
speed. The others answered the call ; and, instantly 
wheeling into the same direction, followed after 
The movement was executed with the precision of 
a troop ! 

Our hunters supposed the horses were about 
pass them, and part company without coming closer. 
They all regretted this, as they were desirous of 
having a nearer view of these noble creatures. In 
order not to alarm them as they were coming up, all 
three had taken the precaution to dismount ; and 
now stood partially screened by their own horses, 
yet holding the latter firmly — as these were terrified 
by the thundering tramp of the wild steeds. 

In a moment the mustangs appeared opposite — 
that is, with their sides turned to the hunters ; and the 
latter now saw with joy that they were not passing 
away, but galloping in a circle — of which they, the 
spectators, were the centre ! 

The circle in which the horses ran was scarcely 
half a mile in diameter, and they appeared to be 
approaching nearer to the centre. In fact, they were 
not following the circumference of a circle, but a 
spiral curve that contracted gradually inward. 

The boys had now a fair view of them, and a 
beautiful sight it was. There were about two hun- 
dred in all, but they were of different colors — 
scarcely two of them being marked alike. There 
were black and white ones, and bay and roan. Some 
were brown, some sorrel, and some of an iron-gray 


THE HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 


225 


Rnd there were others — many of them — mottled and 
spoiled like hounds ! All had flowing manes and 
long, waving tails ; and these streamed behind them 
as they galloped, adding to the gracefulness of theif 
appearance. It was, in truth, a beautiful sight, and 
the hearts of the boys bounded within them, while 
their eyes followed the moving troop as it circled 
round and round. 

But the eyes of all three soon centred upon one — 
the leader, and a fairer object none of them had 
ever beheld. Basil, who loved a fine horse more 
than any living thing, was in an ecstasy as he 
gazed upon this beautiful creature. It was no 
wonder, for a more perfect-looking animal could 
hardly have been conceived. He was larger than 
an) of the herd, though still under the size of an 
English horse. His full chest and prominent eye- 
balls — his well-bound flanks and quarters — his 
light, cylindrical limbs and small, finely-shaped hoofs, 
showed of what race he was — an Arab of the Anda- 
lusian breed — a descendant of the noble steeds that 
carried the first conquerors of Mexico. His propor- 
tions where what a judge would have pronounced per - 
fect ; and Basil, who, in fact, was a judge, had already 
said so. He was white all over — white as the moun- 
tain snow. As he galloped, his nostrils appeared 
opi3n and red, his eyes stood prominently forth, his 
mane was tossed on both sides of his neck, from his 
crest to his withers, and his long tail streamed hori- 
zontally behind him. His free, graceful movement? 
— like that of all his followers — showed that nc 
saddle had ever been laid across his back 


o 


226 


THE HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 


As Basil gazed upon this noble creature^ he be- 
came imbued with an irresistible desire to possess 
him. It is true he already had a horse, and as fine 
a one as ever wore saddle ; but it was Basil’s weak- 
ness o covet every fine horse he saw ; and this one 
had inspired him with a most particular longing to 
become his owner. In a few seconds’ time, so eager 
had grown this desire, that Basil felt as if he would 
have given all he had in the world — Black Hawk, 
perhaps, excepted — to be the master of this prairie 
steed. Throwing a lasso, as Basil could, and mounted 
as he was, it would strike you that he might soon 
have gratified his wish ; but it was not so easy a 
thing, and Basil knew that. He knew that he might 
without difficulty overtake and fling his noose over 
some of the “ fags ” of the herd ; but to capture the 
leader was quite another thing — a feat never accofn- 
plished upon the prairies^ even by the Indians them- 
selves. He had often heard this ; nevertheless, he 
was determined to try. He had great confidence in 
the speed and bottom of Black Hawk. 

He communicated his determination to his brothers 
in a whisper — lest he might frighten the mustangs, 
now circling very near. Lucien tried to dissuade 
him. offering as a reason, that it would lead them 
from their course, and might separate them from 
each other. 

“ No, said Basil. “ Go on to the butte, you and 
Fran 9 ois. 1 shall come to you — perhaps I may be 
there before you. Do not say a word, brother — 
you need not. I must have that horse ; and I shal 
capture him if it cost me a fifty-mile gallop.” 


THE FTJNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 


22 *^ 


While Basil was speaking, he drew closer to h's 
eft stirrup, looked to the lasso that hung coiled upon 
.he horn of his saddle, and then stood ready to mount. 
Lucien saw it was of no use to urge his advice fur 
ther, and ceased to interfere. Fran9ois would forjdly 
have joined Basil in the chase ; but his diminutive 
pony rendered the idea too absurd to be acted upon. 

During all this time tbe wild horses had continued 
their evolutions. At intervals they would halt at a 
signal from their leader, and wheel into line, facing 
inward towards the little group. In this position they 
would remain for a few seconds, with heads erect, 
gazing with curious wonder at the strange intruders 
upon their domain. Some of them would paw the 
ground, and snort as if in anger. Then the foremost 
would utter his shrill neigh, and ail would go off 
again, circling about as before. 

They had got within less than two hundred yards 
of where the hunters stood, but it was evident they 
intended coming no nearer. On the contrary, they 
showed symptoms of bearing off. At each fresh 
movement from a halt, they turned their heads for 
the prairie, and then came circling back again — ^as 
though they had not yet quite satisfied their curiosity. 

During their last halt — or what Basil believed 
might be the last — he again cautioned his brothers 
to keep on to the butte, and quietly placing his 
foot in the stirrup, vaulted into the saddle. The 
movement caused the mustangs to start : but, before 
they could turn themselves, the young hunter had 
plied the spur, and made several springs towards 
them across the prairie He looked not at the 


828 


THE HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 


drove — he cared not which way they might go — 
his eye rested only on the white leader, and towards 
him he rode in full charge. 

The latter, when he saw this sudden movement, 
stood for a moment, as if in surprise. Then giving 
a wild neigh — far different from any of the calls he 
had hitherto uttered — wheeled to the right, and led 
off in a gallop, the rest following at the top of 
their speed. As the rearmost came round upon the 
prairie, Basil was not a dozen yards from them ; and 
in a few springs had got so close that he could easily 
have thrown his lasso over some of them. In 
turning, however, he was left far behind ; but he 
soon recovered his distance, and spurred on, bearing 
slightly to one side of the drove. He did not wish 
to get in amongst them — as he believed that might 
be dangerous, and would only impede him. His 
object was to head the drove, or in some wa}* to 
separate the leader from the others. This was what 
he wanted first ; and to this task he bent himself with 
all his energy. 

On flew the wild steeds, straining themselves to 
their utmost speed. On followed the hunter, — 
apparently in reckless pursuit, but carefully guiding 
his horse as he rode. His lasso hung at his saddle 
peak. He had not yet touched it — time enough 
for that. 

On flew the wild horses, and closer followed the 
daring hunter, until miles of the prairie lay between 
him and the starting point. In a few minutes he was 
DO longer visible to those he had left behind. 

But the small Andalusian steeds were no matcli 


THE HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 


!229 


for the Godolphin Arab. The herd had changed its 
shape. The horses no longer ran in a body, but in a 
long string, each taking place according to his speed ; 
and far in advance of all, like a meteor, glanced the 
snow-white leader. 

The hindmost were soon passed, each swerving 
ofl’ from the track as soon as he saw himself headed 
by the great dark horse that carried the strange and 
dreaded object upon his back. One by one they were 
passed, until Black Hawk had forged ahead of the 
whole drove ; and his rider now saw nothing before 
him but the white steed, the green prairie, and the 
blCie sky. He looked not back ; had he done** so, he 
would have seen the mustangs scattering in every 
direction over the plain. But he looked not back. 
All that he now cared for was before him ; and he 
plied the spur freshly, and galloped on. 

He had no need to use the spur. Black Hawk 
seemed to think that his credit rested upon the result, 
and the faithful brute was doing his best. On the 
other hand, the wild horse felt that his life, or at least 
his freedom, depended upon it, and this was enough 
to urge him to his utmost. Both flew like the wind — 
pursuer and pursued. 

As they parted from the herd, there was not more 
than three hundred yards between them ; and they 
must have passed over some miles afterwards, before 
this distance was greatly lessened. Their line of 
flight was as straight as an arrow ; and from this it 
was evident tnat the mustang usually trusted to his 
hoofs to save him from his enemies. 

In a race like this, however, the pursuer has the 

20 


230 


THE HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 


advantage of* the pursued. The latter, always anx 
ious, is constrained to look back, and is therefore loss 
sure of the ground that lies before. He loses his 
proper attitude for speed, and is besides in danger 
of stumbling. So it was with the wild horse. He 
did not stumble, — he was too sure of foot for that, 
— but his head was occasionally thrown to one side, 
untiL his large, dark eye commanded a view of his 
enemy behind him. This, of course, to some extent 
retarded him. It was only at these moments that 
Basil could gain upon him ; and the proofs he thus 
gave of his superior powers only rendered the latter 
the more eager to capture and possess him. 

After a long chase, the distance between them was 
still two hundred paces, at the least. The young 
hunter, with a feeling of impatience, once more plied 
the spur in a fresh effort to come up ; while the other 
seemed to spring forward as swiftly as ever. 

All at once Basil observed that the white steed, 
instead of running straight forward, appeared to go 
from side to side, moving in crooked lines ! Basil 
saw this with surprise. He looked to discover the 
cause. As his eye glanced along the ground, he 
perceived that it was uneven — covered, as far as he 
could see, with little hillocks. The mustang was 
among them. It was this, then, that was causing him 
to nil so strangely. Basil had hardly made the 
observation, when he felt his horse sink suddenly 
under him, and tumble headlong upon the prairie! 

The rider was flung from his seat, though not 
much hurt. He rose at once to his feet. Black 
H^wk struggled up at the same time, and stood still 


THfe HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE. 2^1 

nis wel flanks rising and falling as he breathed and 
panted. He was not in a condition to gallop farther 
But even had he been fresh, Basil saw that the chase 
was now at an end. The little hillocks, which he 
had just noticed, stood thick upon the prairie as far 
as the eye could reach ; and among these the wild 
hcrse was gliding ofl* as swiftly as ever. When the 
hunter got to his feet again, the other was nearly a 
quarter of a mile distant, and at that moment sent 
back a shrill neigh, as if triumphing over his escape 
— for he had escaped beyond a doubt. 

Basil saw this with chagrin. He saw that farthei 
pursuit was not only useless, but dangerous ; for 
although he had never seen any thing like these little 
mounds before, he knew very well what they were, 
and the danger of riding at a rapid rate among them. 
He had received a timely lesson ; for he was just 
entering their borders when his horse fell — fortu- 
nately, to rise again with sound limbs. He knew he 
might not get off so safely a second time, and he had 
no inclination to take the chances of another tumble. 
He was not going to risk the loss of his favorite Black 
Hawk for the white steed, even had he been cerUiin 
of capturing the latter. But this was no longer likely. 
On the contrary, he might, instead of making a cap- 
ture, lose his own horse, were he to continue the 
chase ; and that, he well knew, would be a terrible 
situation. With the best grace he could, therefore, 
he abandoned the pursuit, leaving the mustang to 
gcamper off alone. He watched him for several 
minutes, until the latter, far, far away, faded like a 
lyhite cloud into the pale blue of the horizon. 


?32 


THE HUNT OF THE WILD HORbE. 


The young hunter now bethought him of returning 
to his companions. In what direction was he to go ? 
Ho looked around for the butte. There it was ; but, 
to his astonishment, it lay directly before him, and 
nearer than when he last saw it ! He had been all 
this while galloping towards it, but, in his haste, had 
not noticed this. Lucien and Franfois must be be- 
hind, thought he, and would soon come that way. 
The best thing he could do, therefore, would be to 
wait until they should come up ; and with this inten- 
tion, he sat down upon one of the little hillockf, 
leaving his horse to wander about at will. 


4 




CHAPrEK XXlV, 

A DOG TOWN. 

Black Hawk strayed off to some distance in searcn 
cf grass, for the latter was scanty near the spot ; and 
what there was of it had been eaten as close to the 
ground as if a thousand rabbits had been feeding 
upon it. Basil did not hinder his horse from going. 
He knew that he was too well trained to run away, 
ana that he could recall him at any moment by a 
whistle. He sat still, therefore — now scanning the 
prairie to the eastward, and now endeavoring to kill 
time by examining the strange little mounds on the 
other side. Of these there were thousands — ii*deed, 
they covered the plain, both to the north, and south, 
and west, as far -as Basil could see. They were 
shaped like truncated cones, about three feet in diam- 
eter at the base, and not over two in height. Near 
the top of each was the entrance — a hole not much 
larger than would have been used by a rat. There 
was no grass immediately around this hole, although 
the sides and tops of the mounds were clothed with 
a smooth, green turf, that gave them the appearance 
of having been constructed a long time ago. 

The inhabitants of these singular dwellings soon 
began to show themselves. They had been terrified 
by the thundering tread of the steeds, and had hidden 
20 * 


234 


A DOG TOWJN. 


at their apprDach. All was now silent again, and 
they thought they might venture abroad. First one 
little snout peeped out, and then another, and anothei, 
until every hole had a h^^ad and a pair of sparkling 
eyes looking forth. After a while, the owners of the 
heads became more courageous, and boldly stepped 
out of doors ; and then could be seen hundreds of 
these strange creatures. They were of a reddisli 
brown color, with breasts and bellies of a dirty white 
Their bodies were about the size of the common gra} 
squirrel ; but their general appearance partook of tht 
squirrel, the weasel, and the rat — all three of which 
they in some respects resembled, and yet were not 
like any of th ^m. They were a distinct species of 
animals. They were marmots — that species known 
by the fanciful appellation of “ prairie dogs,” {arcto- 
mys ludoviciana.) Their tails were very short, and 
not bushy as those of squin’els ; and altogether, their 
bodies had not the graceful symmetry of these ani- 
mals. In a short time, every mound had two or three 
on its top — for several individuals dwell together 
in the same house. Some sat upon all fours, while 
others erected themselves on their hind feet, and stood 
up like little bears or monkeys — all the while flour- 
ishir.g their tails and uttering their tiny barking, that 
sounded like the squeak of a toy dog. It is from this 
that they derive the name of “ prairie dogs,” for in 
nothing else do they resemble the canine species. 
Like all marmots, — and there are many different 
kinds, — they are innocent little creatures, and live 
upon grass, seeds, and roots. They must eat verj- 
little ; and indeed it is a puzzle to naturalists how 
















A DOG TOWN. 


235 


Ihe^ sustain themselves. Their great “ towns,” near 
the Rocky Mountains, are generally in barren tracts, 
where there is but a scanty herbage, and yet the in 
habitants are never found more than half a mile from 
^heir dwellings. How, then, do thousands of them 
subsist on what little grass can grow in a pasture so 
circumscribed ? This has not been explained ; nor 
is it known why they choose these barren tracts for 
their dwelling-places, in preference to the more fertile 
prairies. All these things await the study and ob- 
servation of the historian of nature. 

Basil was surprised to observe that the marmots 
were not alone the occupants of their town. There 
were other creatures moving about of an entirely 
different kind, and they also seemed to be perfectly 
at home. There were white owls, about the size of 
pigeons, of a species he had never seen before, 
These were the burrowing owls, [strix cunicularia,) 
differing altogether from their blind cousins of the 
night, who dwell in thick woods and old ruins. He 
saw these little owls gliding about on silent wing, or 
standing erect upon the tops of the houses, at a dis- 
tance looking exactly like the marmots themselves. 

Besides the marmots and owls there were other 
live creatures in sight. There were small lizards 
scuttling about; and crawling among the mounds 
was seen a hideous form, — also of the lizard kind,— 
the “ horned frog,” {agama cornuta.) These crea- 
tures were new to Basil ; and their ugly earth-colored 
bodies, their half-toad, half-lizard shape, with the 
thornlike-protuberances upon their back, shoulders, 
tnd head, inspired him with disgust as he gazed 


236 


A DOG TOWN. 


upon them. He could see, too, the small land tortoise 
(cistuda) squatting upon the ground, and peeping 
cautiously out of its boxlike shell. But there was 
another creature in this community more fearful than 
all the rest. This was the ground rattlesnake^ which 
could be seen, coiled up and basking in the sun 
or gliding among the mounds, as if searching for 
his prey. Basil noticed that it was a different species 
from any of the rattlesnakes be had seen — differing 
from them in its shape and markings, but equally 
vicious in its appearance and habits. It was the 
crotalus tergeminus^ found only in barren grounds, 
such as those inhabited by the prairie marmot. 

Basil could not help falling into a train of reflection 
about this varied community of creatures. Were 
they friends to each other } or did they form a chain 
of destruction, preying upon one another } Friends 
they could not all be. The marmots lived upon 
grass, and the lizards upon insects and prairie crick- 
ets, of which there wei*e numbers around. Upon 
these, too, no doubt, the to^oises supported them- 
selves ; but upon what fed thf" ow's and snakes } 

These questions puzzled BasU He could not satis- 
fy himself about them, and he ♦nought of Lucien, 
who understood the habits of these various animals 
better than himself. He began to think both of Lu^ 
cien and Fran9ois, for two hours had now passed 
and they did not make their appearance ! He was 
fast becoming uneasy, when a small group of objects 
was seen approaching from the eastward, which, to 
his joy, proved to be the party. 

Tn half an hour afterwards, they rode up, greeting 


A i;OG TOWN. 


2.?7 

their brother with joyful shouts. They had been trav 
elling briskly ever since the morning, and upon Basil’a 
tracks too, showing what a stretch of ground he must 
have passed over in his wild gallop. They saw at 
once that the white horse had got off ; and Basil, in a 
few words, gave them an account of the chase, and 
how it had come to an end. 

As it was new afternoon, and the butte still ap 
peared distant, they made but a short halt, just long 
enough to swallow a morsel of meat and take a drink 
from their water gourds, which, owing to the intense 
heat, were now better than half empty. Their ani- 
mals already suffered from thirst ; so, without delay, 
ihe young hunters got into their saddles, with the in- 
tention of continuing their journey. 

“ Across the dog town ? ” inquired Fran9ois, who 
had mounted first. “ Shall we ride through it, or go 
round ? ” 

Here was a difficulty, indeed. The dog town lay 
directly between them and the butte. To keep 
straight forward they would have to ride through it. 
That would impede them to a considerable extent, as 
they could only ride slowly and in zigzag lines, with- 
out danger. To go round it, on the other hand, 
might lead them miles out of the way, — perhaps 
many miles, — for these marmot villages are fre- 
quently of large extent. 

“ Let us go south a bit,” advised Lucien. “ Per 
haps we may come to the end of it that way.” 

They all turned their horses for the south, and 
commenced riding in that direction. 

They rode for at least two miles, keeping along 


S38 


A DOG TOWN. 


the border of the settlement ; but they could still S8« 
it ahead, apparently stretching for miles farther. 

“We have come the wrong way,” said Lueien 
“ we might have done better, had we turned north 
We must cross it now ; what say you, brothers ? ” 

All agreed to this ; for it is not very pleasant to be 
going about when the goal of one’s journey is within 
sight. So the heads of the horses were brought 
round once more facing the butte, and the party rode 
in among the mounds, and proceeded slowly and 
with great caution. As they approached, the little 
“ dogs ” ran to their hillocks, barked at the intruders, 
shook their short tails, and then whisked themselves 
off into their holes. Whenever the party had got past 
a hundred yards or so, the marmots would come forth 
again, and utter their tiny coughlike notes as before ; 
so that, when our travellers were fairly into the 
“ town,” they found themselves at all times in the 
centre of a barking circle ! 

The owls rose up before them, alighting at short 
distances ; then, once more startled, they would fly 
farther oft”, sometimes sailing away until out of sight, 
and sometimes, lilce the marmots, hiding themselves 
within the burrows. The rattlesnakes, too, betook 
themselves to the burrows, and so did the lizards and 
agamas. What appeared most strange was, that all of 
these creatures — marmots, owls, snakes, lizards, and 
agamas — were observed, when suddenly escaping, 
sometimes to enter the same mound ! This our 
iravellers witnessed more than once. 

Veiy naturally, the conversation turned upon these 
things, and Lueien added some facts to what Basil 
had already observed. 


A DOG TO'vr'T, 


1 ) 


‘The holes,” said he, “had we time to dig them 
up, would be^ found to descend perpendicularly for 
two or three feet. They then run obliquely for sot- 
era! feet farther, and end in a little chamber, which 
is the real house of the marmot. I say the real 
house, for these conelike mounds are only the en- 
trances. They have been formed out of tae earth 
brought up from below at the making of the burrows^ 
As you see, this earth has not been allowed to .He in 
a neglected heap, such as rats and rabbits leave al 
the mouths of their burrows. On the contrary, it has 
been built up with great care, and beaten together by 
the marmots’ feet until quite firm and smooth ; and 
the grass has been allowed to grow over it to save it 
from being washed down by rain. It is evident the 
animal does all this with design — just as beavers, in 
building their houses. Now, upon these mounds the 
marmots love to bask, and amuse themselves in the 
sun ; and it is likely that they can watch their ene- 
mies better from this elevated position, and thus gain 
time to make good their retreat.” 

“ But some of the mounds look quite dilapidated,” 
observed Fran9ois. “ Look yonder ! there are several 
of them caved in, and guttered by the rain ! What 
is the reason, I wonder ” 

“ These are the ones in which the owls live,” re- 
plied L?icien. “ See ! yonder goes an owl into one 
fins very moment ! It is supposed that the owls have 
taken these from the marmots, and use them exclu- 
sively for their own dwellings ; and, as you perceive, 
they do not keep them in repair. All they care for 
ta the hole to take shelter in, leaving the outside 


A DOG TOWN. 


•740 

works to go to ruin as they may. Certain it io ihai^ 
although we have seen them and the dogs rush into 
the same hole together, it is because we came sud- 
denly upon them. They do not live thus. The mar- 
mots have their own dwellings, and the owls theirs^ 
which last are the ruined ones you have noticed.’ 

“ But do not the owls eat the marmots ? ” inquired 
Basil. “The great owls of the woods prey upon 
animals as large. I~have seen them kill rabbits in 
the dusk of the evening.” 

“ These do not,” answered the naturalist ; “ at least 
it is supposed they do not. Many that have been shot 
and opened proved to have nothing in their stomachs 
but insects and beetles — such as these we see upon 
the prairie. I think it is probable the owls make an 
occasional meal of the horned frogs and lizards ; 
though I have no proof of this further than that birds 
of this kind usually prey upon such reptiles.” 

“ But how live the rattlesnakes ? ” inquired Fran-^ 
fois ; “ what do they feed upon ? ” 

“ Ah ! ” replied Lucien, “ that is the puzzle of 
naturalists. Some assert that they are the tyrants 
of the community, and devour the old marmots. 
This can hardly be, as these snakes are not large 
enough to swallow them, in my opinion. Certain it 
is, however, that they prey occasionally upon the 
young, as many of them have been killed with young 
marmots in their belly.” 

“ Why, then,” rejoined Fran9ois, “ the snakes seem 
lo have it all their own way. If they eat the young 
marmots, what is to hinder them from killing as many 
as they please ? They can enter the burrows with as 
much ease as the marmots themselves ! ” 




241 


■* That is true,” replied Lucien, “ out not half so 
nimbly ; and perhaps the latter can even escape them 
within. The rattlesnake is a veiy slow crawler, and, 
besides, only strikes his prey when coiled up. Per- 
haps, in these subterranean galleries, he is still less 
able to capture it ; and the old marmots may , after 
ail, have some mode of defending both themselves 
and their young from his venomous attacks. As yet, 
verj" little is known of these creatures. The remote 
regions in which they are found place them beyond 
the observation of naturalists ; and such of these as 
have visited their towns have been only allowed time 
to make a hurried examination of them. They are 
veiy shy, rarely letting you get within range of a 
gun. -They are, therefore, seldom shot at. More- 
over, it takes great trouble to capture them by digging, 
on account of the depth of their burrows ; and as 
their skins are not very valuable, and their flesh but 
a bite at best, they are not often moleste(i by the 
himter.” 

“ But are they eatable ” inquired Fran9ois. 

“ Yes,” answered Lucien ; “ the Indians are very 
fond of their flesh, and eat it whenever they can con- 
veniently get it ; but, indeed, they will do the same 
for almost eveiy living creature.” 

“What do marmots feed upon in winter, when 
there is no grass for them } ” inquired Fran9ois. 

“ They then lie torpid. They have nests in theii 
subterranean chambers, and curious nests these are 
They are constructed of grass and roots, are as round 
as a globe, and so firmly woven together that one 
of them might be kicked over the prairie like a foot 
21 i‘ 


242 


A DOG TOWN. 


ball. The nest is within, with a small hole leading 
into it just large enough to admit your finger — for 
when the marmot goes inside, he closes all up except 
this little hole, through which he gets all the air he 
requires. In these snug beds they lie asleep luring 
the cold season, and at that time are rarely »een out- 
si le their burrows.” 


A NIGHT IN THE DESERT. 


1243 


CHAPTER XXV. 

A NIGHT IN THE DESERT. 

Conversing in this way, the young hunters rode 
an, keeping as far from the edges of the mounds as 
possible, lest the hoofs of their horses might sink in 
the excavated ground. They had ridden full five 
miles, and still the marmot village stretched before 
them ; still the dogs on all sides uttered their “ Choo- 
choo ; ” still the owls flapped silently up, and the 
rattlesnakes crawled across their track. 

It was near sundown when they emerged from 
among the hillocks, and commenced stepping out 
on the hard, barren plain. Their conversation now 
assumed a gloomier turn, for their thoughts were 
gloomy. They had drunk all their water. The heat 
and dust had made them extremely thirsty ; and the 
water, warmed as it was in their gourd canteens, 
scarcely gave them any relief. They began to expe- 
rience the cravings of thirst. The butte still appeared 
at a great distance — at least ten miles off. What 
if, on reaching it, they should find no water ? This 
thought, combined with the torture they were already 
enduring, was enough to fill them with apprehension 
and fear. 

Basil now felt how inconsiderately they had acted 
05 not listening to the more prudent suggestions of 


244 


A I^IGHT IN THli DESERT. 


Lucien , but it was too late for regrets — as is often 
he case with those who act rashly. 

They saw that they must reach the butte as speed- 
ily as possible, for the night was coming on. If it 
should prove a dark night, they would be unable to 
guide themselves by the eminence, and losing their 
course, might wander all night. Oppressed with this 
fear, they pushed forward as fast as possible ; but 
their animals, wearied with the long journey and 
suffering from thirst, could only travel at a lagging 
pace. 

They had ridden about three miles from the dog 
town, when, to their consternation, a new; object pre- 
sented itself. The prairie yawned before them, ex 
hibiting one of those vast fissures often met with on 
the high table lands of America. It was a harranca 
of nearly a thousand feet in depth, sheer down inU 
the earth, although its two edges at tha top were 
scarcely that distance apart from each other ! I 
lay directly across the track of the travellers ; and 
they could trace its course for miles to the right and 
left, here running for long reaches in a straight line, 
and there curving or zigzagging through the prairie. 
When they arrived upon its brink, they saw at a 
glance that they could not cross it. It was precipi- 
tous on both sides, with dark, jutting rocks, which in 
some places overhung its bed. There was no water 
in it to gladden their eyes ; but even had there been 
ftuch, they could not have reached it. Its bottom was 
dry, and covered with loose bowlders of rocks thac 
nad fallen from a,bove. 

This was an interruption which our travellers little 


A WIGHT IN THE DESERT. 


345 


expected, and they turned to each other with looks 
of dismay. For some minutes they deliberated, un- 
certain how to act. Would they ride along its edge, 
and endeavor to find a crossing-place ? Or would it 
DO better to retrace their steps, and attempt to reacii 
tne stream which they had left in the morning ? The 
latter was a fearful alternative, as they knew they 
could not pass the marmot hillocks in the darkness 
without losing time and encountering danger. It is 
discouraging at all times to go hack, particularly as 
they had ridden so far — they believed that water 
would be found near the butte. They resolved, at 
length, to search for a crossing. 

With this intention they made a fresh start, and 
kept along the edge of the barranca. They chose 
the path that appeared to lead upward, as by so doing 
they believed they would the sooner reach a point 
where the chasm was shallower. They rode on for 
miles, but still the fissure with its steep cliffs yawned 
below them, and no crossing could be found. The 
sun went down, and the night came on as dark as 
pitch. They halted. They dared ride no farther. 
They dared not even go back, lest they might chance 
upon some outlying angle of the crooked chasm, and 
ride headlong into it ! They dismounted from their 
horses, and sunk down upon the prairie with feelings 
almosi of despair. 

It would be impossible to picture their suflTeiings 
throughout that long night. They did not sleep even 
for a moment. The agonizing pangs of thirst, as 
well as the uncertainty of what was before them on 
the morrow, kept them awake. They did not even 
21 * 


246 A NIGHT IN THE DESEM. 

picket theii horses, — for there was no glass near th« 
spot where they were, — but sat up all night holding 
their bridles. Their poor horses, like themselves 
suffered both from thirst and hunger ; and the mule 
Jeannette, occasionally uttered a wild hinny ing that 
was painful to hoar. 

As soon as day broke they remounted, and contin« 
ued on along the edge of the barranca. They saw 
that it still turned in various directions ; and, to add 
to their terror, they now discovered that they could 
not even retrace the path upon which they had come, 
without going all the way back on their own tracks. 
The sun was obscured by clouds, and they knew 
not in what direction lay the stream they had left — 
even had they possessed strength enough to have 
reached it. 

They were advancing, and discussing whether they 
should make the attempt, when they came upon a 
deep buffalo road that crossed their path. It was 
beaten with tracks apparently fresh. They hailed 
the sight with joyful exclamations, as they believed 
that it would lead them to a crossing. They hesitated 
not, but riding boldly into it, followed it downward. 
As they had anticipated, it wound down to the bottom 
of the barranca, and passed up to the prairie on the 
opposite side, where they soon arrived in safety. 

This, however, was no termination to their suffer- 
ings, which had now grown more acute than ever. 
The atmospnere felt like an oven ; and the light dust 
kicked up by their horses’ hoofs, enveloped them in 
a choking cloud, so that at times they could not see 
whe butte for which they were making. It was of na 


wiuili’ IN THE DESERT. 


^ 4 ^ 


ase halting again. To halt was certain death ; and 
they struggled on, with fast- waning strength, scarcely 
able to retain their seats or speak to one another. 
Thirst had almost deprived them of the powei cf 
speech ’ 

It was near sunset when the travellers, faint, chok- 
ing, panting for breath, bent down in their saddles, 
their horses dragging along under them like loaded 
bees, approached the foot of the eminence. Their 
eyes were thrown forward in eager glances — glances 
in which hope and despair were strangely blended. 

The gray, rocky blutf, that fronted them, looked 
parched and forbidding. It seemed to frown inhospi- 
tably upon them, as they drew near. 

“ O brothers ! should there be no water ! ” 

This exclamation was hardly uttered, when the 
mule Jeannette, hitherto lagging behind, sprang for- 
ward in a gallop, hinnying loudly as she ran. Jean- 
nette, as we have said, was an old prairie traveller, 
and could scent water as far as a wolf could have 
done her own carcass. The other animals, seeing 
her act in this manner, rushed after ; and, the next 
moment, the little cavalcade passed round a point 
of rocks where a greensward gladdened the eyes 
of all. They saw grass and willows, among whose 
leaves gurgled the crystal waters of a prairie spring , 
and in a few seconds’ time, both horses and ridera 
were quenching their thirst in its cool current 


THE PEONG HOBN& 


HS 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE PRONG HORNS. 

The “ butte ” was one of those singular fonnatioiii 
to be met with in the Great American Desert. It 
was not a mountain, nor yet a hill. Its shape was 
different from either. It was more like a vast mass 
of rocky earth, raised above the prairie, perpendicu- 
lar on all sides, and having a flat, level surface upon 
its top. It was, in fact, one of those hills which, in 
the language of Spanish America, are termed “ me- 
sas,” or tables — so called on account of their flat, 
table-like tops. They are generally argillaceous, 
and are common upon the Upper Missouri River, and 
throughout the vast desert regions that lie west of the 
Del Norte. Sometimes several of them stand near 
each other upon the plains, looking as though their 
tops had once been the level of the ancient surface, 
and the ground between had been worn away by dis- 
integration — from rain and other causes — leaving 
them thus standing. To the eye of one accustomed 
to looking only upon rounded hills, or mountains with 
sharp peaks, these elevated “ mesas ” appear very 
singular, and form an interesting study for the ge- 
ologist. 

The top of the one beside which our adventurers 
halted had a superficial area of some twenty oi 


THE PRONG HORNS. 


249 


fciiirty acres ; and its purpendicular sides rose neariy 
two hundred feet above the surrounding prairie. A 
thin growth of pine trees covered it ; while stunted 
pihons and cedars hung out from its cliffs. There 
were agaves, and yucca palms, and cacti, growing 
along its edges, giving it a very picturesque appear 
ance. 

Our travellers, after halting, and having satisfied 
iieir thirst, of course thought of nothing but re« 
maining there to recruit both themselves and their 
animals. They saw around them the three requi- 
sites of a camp — water, wood, and grass. They 
commenced by cutting down some pinon trees that 
grew by the foot of the cliff. With these a bright 
fire was soon made. They had still enough bear’s 
meat left to last them for several days. What more 
wanted they ? But they discovered that even in this 
arid region Nature had planted trees and vegetables, 
to sustain life. The pinons afforded their farinaceous 
cones, the agave yielded its esculent roots, and the 
prairie turnip grew upon the borders of the runlet 
They saw a small plant with white, lily-like flowers. 
It was the “ sego ” of the Indians, (calochortus luteus,) 
and they knew that at its roots grew tubers, as large 
as filberts, and delicious eating when cooked. Lu- 
cicn recognized all these edible productions ; and 
promised his brothers a luxurious dinner on the mor- 
row. For that night, all three were too much fatigued 
and sleepy to be nice about their appetites. Tho 
juicy bear’s meat, to travellers thirsty and hungry as 
they, needed no seasoning to make it palatable. Sc 
they washed themselves clear of the dust, ate theii 


THE PRONG HORNS. 


*^50 

fruga meal, and stretched themselves out for a long 
night’s rest. 

And a capital night’s rest they enjoyed — without 
having been disturbed by any thing. One would 
have supposed that, after so much hardship, they 
would have got up somewhat wearied. Strange to 
say, it was not so, for they arose quite refreshed. 
This Lucien attributed to the bracing influence of 
the light, dry atmosphere ; and Lucien was right, for, 
although an arid soil surrounded them, its climate 
is one of the healthiest in the world. Many a con- 
sumptive person, who has crossed the prairies with 
flushed cheek, uttering his hectic cough, has returned 
to his friends to bear joyful testimony to what 1 
now state. 

All three felt as brisk as bees, and immediately set 
about preparing breakfast. They gathered a capful 
of the pihon cones — the seeds of which Lucien knew 
how to prepare, by parching and pounding. These, 
with the bear’s meat, gave them a good hunter’s 
breakfast. They then thought of their dinner, and 
dug up a quantity of “ segos ” and prairie turnips. 
They found also a mallow, (the nialva involucrata^) 
whose long, tapering root resembles the parsnip both 
in taste and appearance. All these were baked with 
the bear’s meat — so that the dinner, in some respects, 
resembled ham, turnips, parsnips, and yams — for the 
root of the sego, thus dressed, is not unlike the yam, 
or sweet potato, {convolvulus batatas.) 

Of course, our adventurers did not eat their din- 
ner immediately after breakfast. A long interval 
passed between the two meals, which they employed 


THE PRONG HORNS. 


251 


iR was\ung, scouring, and setting all their tackle to 
rights — for this had got sadly out of order in the 
hurry of the previous days. While thus engaged, 
they occasionally cast their eyes over the prairie, but 
nothing of the buffalo could be seen. Indeed, they 
did not look for them very earnestly, as they had 
made up their minds to stay a day or two where they 
were — until their animuls should be well rested, 
and ready for rough work again. The latter enjoyed 
themselves quite as much as their masters. There 
was plenty of the “ grama ” grass growing along the 
banks of the rivulet, and that, with the water, was all 
they cared for to make them contented and happy. 
Jeannette appeared to be glad that she was no longer 
among the dark woods, where she had so nearly been., 
tom to pieces by panthers and javalies. 

Before evening came, the boys had finished all the 
little jobs which had occupied them. Their saddles, 
bridles, and lassoes were put in thorough repair, and 
placed upon the dry rocks. Their guns were wiped 
out and thoroughly cleaned — lock, stock, and bar- 
rel. The horses, too, had been washed by the spring , 
and Jeannette’s shanks had received a fresh “ rub ” 
with bear’s grease, so that if ever that celebrated arti- 
cle brought out hair upon any thing, it was likely to 
do so for her 

I say, all their little matters having been thus at- 
tended to, the young hunters were sitting upon three 
large stones near the spring, talking over their past 
adventures and their future prospects. Of course, 
the bpffalo was the principal theme, as that was the 
object of their expedition. They did not fail to think 


252 


THE PRONG HORNS. 


of tl eir good old father ; and they congratulated them 
selves upon the pleasure he would have in listening tc 
the story of their adventures when they should gel 
back to tell it. Hugot, too, came in for a share of 
tiieir thoughts ; and Fran9ois laughed over the re- 
membrance of the tricks he had from time to lime 
played upon the little corporal. 

While thus enjoying themselves, the eyes of all - 
were attracted to some distant objects unon the 
prairie. 

“ Ho ! ” exclaimed Fran9ois, “ what a string of 
wolv 3 ; ! ” 

Wo.ves were no unusual sight, and even at that 
moment several were sitting upon the prairie, not 
more than two hundred yards from the camp. They 
were those that had followed the party on their 
march, having kept along with it for days. 

“ The animals we see yonder are not wolves,” 
joyfully added Basil. “ They are better than that, I 
fancy — they are deer ! ” 

“ No, brother,” rejoined Lucien, “ they are ante- 
lopes.” 

This announcement caused both Basil and Fran9ois 
to spring to their guns. Basil was particularly anx- 
ious to bring down an antelope, for he had never 
killed one. In fact, he had never seen one, as this 
animal is not met with near the Mississippi. Strange 
to say, its favorite range is the arid deserts that lie 
near the f^ot of the Rocky Mountains, where there 
is but little grass, and less water. In some of these h 
is the only ruminating animal, of any considerable 
■i*e, to be met with. It is often found so far from 


THE PRON« HORNS. 


2&3 


waier^ that some naturalists have asserted it can live 
svithout this necessary element. They forget that 
ivhat to them appears far from water is to the ante- 
lope but a run of a few minutes, or rather, I should 
say, a flight — for its bounding speed resembles more 
the flight of a bird than the gallop of a four-footed 
creature. 

Antelopes differ but little from deer. The lattei 
want the gall bladder, which all antelopes have. 
Another distinction is found in the horns. The 
deer’s horns are composed of a solid, bony substance, 
which differs from true horn. The horns of the 
antelope are more like those of a goat. These are 
the principal distinctions. In most other respects 
deer and antelopes are alike. Naturalists say there 
is but one species of antelope in North America — 
the prong horned, {antilope Americana.) When the 
fauna of Mexico has been carefully examined, I think 
another will be found. 

It is only upon the great prairies of the far west 
that the prong-horned antelope is met with ; and 
there it is a most shy and timid creaturOj allowing 
the hunter only to approach it by cunning and 
stratagem. A herd is sometimes hunted by the 
Indians into a “ pound,” or “ surrounded ; ” but even 
‘.hen their fleetness often enables them to escape ; 
and so laborious an undertaking is it to capture 
them thus, that the plan is but seldom adopted, 
where any other game can be obtained. The easiest 
mode of taking the antelope is when it is found 
attempting to cross a river, as its slender limbs and 
smaii, delicate hoofs render it but a poor swimmer 
22 


254 


THE PRONG HORNS. 


The Indians sometimes destroy whole herds while 
thus endeavoring to swim across the great streams 
of the prairies. 

Although so shy, the antelope is as inquisitive as 
mothei Eve was ; and will often approach its most 
dangerous enemy to satisfy its instinct of curiosity. 
Our party were destined to witness a singular illus- 
tration of this peculiarity. 

Basil and Fran9ois had seized their guns, but did 
not attempt to move from the spot. That would be 
of no use, they judged, as there was not even a bunch 
of grass to shelter them in the direction whence the 
antelopes were approaching. They sat still, there- 
fore, in hopes that the animals were on their way to 
the spring, and would come nearer of their own ac 
cord. In this conjecture the boys were right. The 
herd, about twenty in all, came on over the prairie, 
heading directly for the butte. They walked in single 
file, following their leader, like Indians on a war 
path ! They were soon so near that the hunters could 
distinguish every part of their bodies — their yellow 
backs — their white sides and bellies — the short, erect 
manes upon their necks — their delicate limbs — their 
long, pointed muzzles. They could even perceive 
the little black spots behind their cheeks, which emit 
that disagreeable odor, — as with the common goat, — 
and on account of which the hunting trappers, in their 
unromantic phraseology, have given the name of 
‘ goats ” to these most graceful animals. 

All these peculiarities our young hunters observed 
as the herd approached. They had placed them- 
selves behind some willow bushes, so as not to be 


THE PRONG HORNS. 


255 


seen by the latter. They observed, U d, tl^at there 
>yas but one of them with horns, and that was the 
foremost or leader. All the rest were does or young 
ones. The antelopes, as they came on, did no^ ap- 
pear to regard the horses that were browsing out upon 
the plain, though not directly in their way. Thej 
look the latter, no doubt, for mustangs, who are not 
their enemies in an)^ sense, and therefore did no< 
fear them. 

They arrived at length close to the spring rivulet, 
where it ran out upon the prairie. They did not 
approach it to drink. They were evidently advancing 
towards the spring itself, perhaps with the intention 
of getting a cooler and more refreshing draught from 
the fountain head. The young hunters lay concealed 
among the willows, each with his gun ready in his 
hand, determined to fire as soon as the unsuspecting 
creatures should come within range. 

They had got nearly so — within two hundred 
yards or less — when all at once the leader was seen 
to swerve suddenly to the right, and head away from 
the water ! What could this movement mean ? On 
looking in the new direction, several hairy objects 
were perceived upon the ground. They were odd- 
looking objects, of a reddish-brown color, and might 
have passed for a number of foxes lying asleep. But 
they were not foxes. They were wolves — prairii 
wolves — a sort of animals more cunning even than 
foxes themselves. They were not asleep neither, 
though they pretended to be. They were wide awake, 
as they lay squatted closely upon the grass, with theii 
heads so completely hidden behind their bushy tails 


256 


THE PRONG HORNS. 


that it would have been impossible to have told wntw 
they were, had not the boys known that they were 
the same wolves they had noticed but the moment 
before. There were about half a dozen of them in 
all, lying in a line ; but so close were they that their 
bodies touched one another, and, at first sight, ap- 
peared as one object, or a string of objects connected 
together. They lay perfectly still and motionless. 
It was this group that had attracted the leader of the 
antelope herd, and was drawing him out of his course. 

Curious to witness the denouement^ our hunters 
continued to lie quiet in their ambush among the 
willows. 

The antelopes had all turned in the track of their 
leader, and were following him in the new direction 
like soldiers marching in single file. They went 
slowly, with outstretched necks, and eyes protruded, 
gazing steadfastly on the strange objects before them. 
When within a hundred yards or so of the wolves, the 
leader stopped, and sniffed the air. The others imi- 
tated him in every movement. The wind was blowing 
towards the wolves ; therefore the antelopes, who pos- 
sess the keenest scent, could benefit nothing from 
this. They moved forward again several paces, and 
again halted, and uttered their snorts as before, and 
then once more moved on. These manoeuvres lasted 
for some minutes ; and it was evident that the spirits 
of fear and curiosity were struggling within the 
breasts of these creatures. At times the former 
seemed to have the mastery, for they would tremble, 
and start, as if about to break off* in flight. Curiosity 
would again prevail, and a fresh movement fiwrward 
was the consequence. 


THE PRONG HORNS. 


25 '} 


In tliis way they advanced, until the headmost had 
got within a few paces of the wolves, who lay all the 
while as still as mice, or as cats waiting for mice. 
Not any part of them was seen to move, except the 
long hair of their tails that waved slightly in the 
breeze ; but this only excited the curiosity of the 
antelopes to a greater degree. 

The leader of the herd seemed all at once to grow 
bolder. He was a stout old buck — what had he to 
fear ? Why should he dread such creatures as these, 
without heads, or teeth, or claws, and evidently inca- 
pable of moving themselves? No doubt they were 
Inanimate objects. He would soon decide that ques- 
tion, by simply stepping up and laying his nose upon 
one of them. 

He was instigated, moreover, by a species of pride 
or vanity. He wanted to show off his courage before 
his followers, who were mostly does, many of them 
his wives, too, for the old antelopes are shocking 
polygamists. It would never do to appear timid in 
the eyes of the fair does, and he was determined to 
cut a swagger. Under this impulse, he walked boldly 
up, until his sharp snout touched the hair of one of 
the wolves. 

The latter, who had been all the time peeping 
from under his tail, waiting for just such an opportuni- 
ty, now sprang to his feet, and launched himself upon 
the throat of the antelope. His comrades, uncoiling 
themselves at the same instant, followed his example ; 
and the next moment the prong horn was dragged to 
the ground, and worried by the whole pack ! 

The frightened herd wheeled in their track and 
22 * 0 


258 


the PROlVG HORNS. 


scattered right and left. Some ran in the direction 
of the hunters ; but so swiftly did they bound past, 
that the shots of the latter, aimed in haste, whistled 
idly over the prairie. Not one of them appeared to 
have been touched ; and, in a few seconds, not one 
of them was to be seen. They had all escaped, 
except their leader, who was by this time dying 
under the teeth of the wolves. 

“ Well, we shall have him at all events,” said 
Basil. “ Load your guns, brothers ! give the wolves 
time to kill him outright ; we can easily run them clf.” 

“ Very kind of them,” added Fran9ois, “ to procure 
us fresh venison for supper. Indeed, we might not 
have had it but for their cunning. We have done 
them some service during our journey ; it is almost 
time they should make us a return.” 

“We had better make haste, then,” said Lucien, 
loading at the same time with his brothers; “the 
wolves appear to be very busy ; they may tear our 
venison to pieces. See ! what a scuffle ! ” 

As Lucien said this, the eyes of all were turned 
upon the wolves. The latter were leaping about over 
the body of the antelope, now in a thick clump, now 
more scattered, but all the while apparently worrying 
the animal to death. Their jaws were already blood- 
stained, and their bushy tails swept about and above 
ihem in ceaseless motion. The hunters made all 
haste in reloading, lest, as Lucien had suggested, the 
wolves might spoil the venison. They were not more 
than a minute engaged in ramming down the bullets, 
and fixing the caps on the nipples of their guns. 
When this was done.^ all three ran forward together 


VilE PRONG HORNS. 


259 


Mareiigo in the advance, with outstretched neck and 
open mouth, eager to do battle with the whole pack. 

It was but three hundred yards to the spot where 
\ be wolves were ; and when our hunters had got 
within range, all threes stopped, levelled their pieces, 
end fired. The volley took efTcct. Two were seen 
kicking and sprawling over the grass, while the others, 
dropping their prey, scanipmea off* over tne prairie. 
The boys ran up. Marengo leaped upon one of the 
wounded wolves, while the other was despatched by 
the buts of their guns. But where was the antelope 
There was no such animal to be seen, but, in its stead, 
half a dozen fragments of mangled skin, a horned 
head and shanks, with a clump of half-picked ribs and 
ioints ! And this was all that was left of the poor 
prong horn — all that was left of that beautiful form 
that, only a few moments before, was bounding over 
the prairie in* the full pride of health, strength, and 
swiftness ! 

' The boys contemplated his remains with feelings 
of disappointment and chagrin; for, although there 
was still plenty of bear meat, they had anticipated 
supping upon fresh venison. But neither “ haunch ” 
nor “ saddle ” was left — nothing but torn and use- 
less fragments — so, after sundry sharp ejaculations 
against the wolves, they left Marengo to make his 
best of the debris^ and, ^valking back slowly' to the 
eamp, seated themselves once more upon the stones. 


260 


DECOYING AN ANTELOPE. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

DECOYING AN ANTELOPE. 


They had not rested more than five minutes, when 
their attention was again attracted to the prairie. 
Another herd of antelopes ! Strange to say, it was , 
and, like the former, these were making directly for 
the spring. The hunters knew they were not the 
same ; for this herd was much larger, and there were 
several males in it, easily distinguishable by their 
forked horns. 

The guns were again loaded, and Marengo was 
called up, lest he might frighten them off. 

These, like the others, marched in order, in single 
file — led by a large buck. There appeared to be 
about thirty or more in this herd. They had, no 
doubt, been pasturing all day on some far plain, and 
were now on their way to the water, determined to 
have a good drink before going to rest for the 
night. 

When they had arrived within four or five hundred 
yards of the spring, they turned slightly to the left. 
This brought them at once to the rivulet — where 
they entered, and having drunk, went out again, and 
oommenced browsing along the bank. It was evi- 
dent they did not intend coming any nearer to the 
butte, or the grove of willows, where our hunters had 


BF.COYING AN ANTELOPE. 


261 


concealed themselves. This was a disappointment. 
All three had once more set their minds upon an an« 
telope supper ; and now their chances of getting il 
seemed eveiy moment growing less — as the animals^ 
instead of coming nearer, were browsing away from 
them over the prairie. There was no cover by which 
they might be approached. What, then, could the 
hunters do, but leave them to go as they had come ? 

But there was an expedient which suggested itself 
to the mind of Basil. He had heard of it from old 
hunters ; and the curious conduct of the first herd, 
so lately shown in regard to the wolves, recalled it to 
his remembrance. He resolved, therefore, to try this 
expedient, and secure an antelope if possible. 

Cautioning his brothers to remain quiet, he took 
up one of the red blankets that lay near. He had 
already cut a long, forked sapling, and sharpened it 
at one end with his knife. He now spread out the 
blanket, holding it up before him ; and, with his rifle 
in one hand and the sapling in the other, he passed 
out of the willows into the open ground — keeping 
the blanket between him and the animals, so that his 
body was completely hidden from them. In this way 
he advanced a few paces, walking in a bent attitude, 
until he had attracted the attention of the antelopes. 
He then stuck the sapling firmly in the ground, hung 
the blanket upon its forks, and knelt down behind it, 

An object so odd-looking, both as regarded foim 
and color, at once excited the curiosity of the herd 
They left off feeding, and commenced approaching 
it — hailing at short intervals, and then continuing to 
advance. They did not move in single file, — as th« 


262 


DECOYING AN ANTELOPE. 


former herd had done, — but first one and then a» 
other of the bucks took the lead, each wishing tc 
make a display of his courage. In a few minutes 
one of the largest was within range ; when Basil, 
who was Iving flat along the grass, took sight at the 
animal’s b^'east, and fired. 

The buck leaped up at the shot ; but, to the great 
disappointment of the marksman, turned in his 
ti’acks, and fled along with the rest of the herd, all 
of which had bounded off on hearing the crack ot 
the rifle. 

Basil beheld this with some surprise. He had 
taken deliberate aim ; and he knew that when he did 
so, it was seldom that his rifle failed him. He had 
missed this time, however, as he thought, when he 
saw the antelope run off, apparently unhurt ; and, 
attributing his failure to the hurried manner in which 
he had loaded his piece, he took up the blanket, and 
turned with a mortified look towards his companions. 

“ Look yonder ! ” cried Fran9ois, who still watched 
the retreating antelopes ; “ look at the wolves ! Away 
they go after.” 

“ Ha ! ” exclaimed Lucien, “ you have wounded 
the buck, brother, else the wolves would never 
follow. See ! they are running upon his track like 
hounds ! ” 

Lucien was right. The animal was hit, or the 
wolves would not have embarked in a chase so hope- 
less as the pursuit of a prong horn ; for, strange 
to say, these cunning creatures can tell when game 
has been wounded better than the hunters tnem- 
selves E^id very often pursue and run it down when 


DEJGriNG AN ANTELOPE. 


203 


ihe latter believes it to have escaped ! It was evi* 
dent, therefore, that Basil had hit the animal — 
though not in a deadly part — and the wolves were 
now following with the hope of hunting it down. 

A new idea came into Basil’s mind. He thought 
he might yet he in at the death ; and with this idea 
he ran up to his horse, drew the picket pin, and leap, 
ing upon his bare back, directed him after the chase. 
He was soon in full gallop over the prairie, keeping 
the wolves in sight as he went. He could see the 
antelope, he had fired at, some distance ahead of the 
wolves, but far behind the rest of the herd^ and evi- 
dently running heavily and with pain. 

It cost the young hunter a five-mile gallop ; and, 
at the end of that, while he was yet half a mile in the 
rear, he saw the wolves come up with the wounded 
antelope, and drag it down upon the prairie. He 
made all the haste he could — putting Black Hawk 
to the top of his speed. In a few minutes he was 
upon the ground, and scattered the wolves as he gal- 
loped among them ; but once more he had arrived 
too late. The body of the antelope was torn to 
pieces, and more than half devoured ; while only 
half-picked bones and pieces of skin remained to 
reward him for his long ride. 

With an ejaculation which came very near being 
a French oath, the disappointed hunter turned his 
horse, and rode slowly back — wishing the wolves 
far enough as he went. 

When he returned, Fran9ois assisted him in his 
maledictions ; for Fran9ois was tired of the bcai 


264 


DECOYING AN ANTELOF&. 


meat, and was vexed at being thus a second time 
cheated out of something fresh for supper. 

Lucien, however, assured them both that the flesh 
of the antelope, as he had heard, was “ no great eat 
ing,” after all ; and this, in some degree, pacified 
them — so that, with a stew of the jerked bear and 
parsnips, and some pinon bread, which Lucien had 
prepared according to the Indian fashion, all three 
made a supper that was not to be sneered at under 
any circumstances. When it was eaten, they brought 
their horses closer to the camp — so as to have them 
near in case of necessity — and, having wrapped 
themselves in their blankets, they once more sough* 
the refreshment of sleep. 


SCATTERING THE C’MMARONS. 


26 a 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

SCATTERING THE CIMMARGNS. 

This night they were not permitted to s eep with- 
out interruption. Two or three times their horsei 
bounded about at the end of their trail ropes, fright- 
ened by some prowling animal. It might be wolves, 
thought they ; but the dog Marengo, who did not mind 
the wolves, showed symptoms of terror, growling 
savagely at intervals, but all the while keeping in by 
the camp. The mule Jeannette, too, came close up 
to the fire, — as near as her rope would allow her, — 
and our adventurers could see that she trembled, as 
if in fear of some well-known enemy ! Several 
times they could distinguish, amidst the howling of 
the wolves, a strange sound, differing altogether from 
the voices of the latter. It was a kind of continued 
snort, uttered in a low and querulous tone ; and when 
uttered, it always caused Jeannette to start, and Ma- 
rengo to crouch closer to them. Could it be the voice 
of the cougar ? or (more fearful thought still) the snort 
of the grizzly bear.? The latter was not unlikely. 
They were now in a region where these fierce animals 
are to be met with, and just in such a spot as one or 
more of them would choose for their abode. 

It was a fearful apprehension, and it would have 
banished sleep from the eyes of the young hunters 
23 


266 


SCATTERING THE CIMMAR >NS. 


had -liej been certain that grizzly bears were in theW 
neighborhood. They were not certain, however , 
still they resolved not to sleep all at one time, but to 
keep watch in turns. The fire was replenished with 
fresh wood, so that the blaze would enable them to 
see for a good distance around ; and then two of 
them lay down to sleep again, while the third watched, 
sitting up with his piece in readiness for any sudden 
attack. Each took a two-hours’ turn as sentinel unti 
the morning broke, which put an end to their fears 
as no enemy appeared to be near them. 

They now bestirred themselves, let loose theii 
horses upon the grass, performed their ablutions in 
the crystal water of the spring, and made ready thei;* 
breakfast. They did not fail to observe that their 
stock of the jerked meat could serve them but a da^ 
or two longer ; for the wolves at their last camp had 
carried off a considerable portion of it. They were 
not without fears as to their future subsistence, as 
there seemed to be no game in that part of the coun- 
try except antelopes; and their experience already 
taught them how little chance they had of capturing 
these. Should they not fall in with the buffalo, there- 
fore, they might starve with hunger. 

These thoughts occupied them while engaged in 
preparing and eating breakfast ; and they resolved to 
go on half rations of the bear meat, and economize 
the little of it that was left. 

After breakfast they held a council as to their fu- 
ture route. Should they go north, south, east, oi 
west, from the butte ? They were of different minds. 
A-t length, however, they all agreed that before com* 


SCJ'^'TERING THE CIMMARONS. 

mg to any determination, it would be best to climh 
the butte, and from its top get a view of the surround 
mg country, which might enable them to resolve upon 
the best route to be taken. Perhaps they might see 
the buffaloes from its summit — as it, no doubt, com- 
manded an extensive view of the prairie on all sides. 

Shouldering their guns, and leaving their blankets 
and utensils by the spring, they started on foot to 
find a place where they might ascend the eminence. 
They went round by the western end, for their camp 
was near its north-east side. As they proceeded, they 
began to fear that there was no place where the hill 
could be climbed. On all sides it appeared to be a 
precipice rising perpendicularly from the plain. Here 
and there loose rocks lay at its base, as if they had 
fallen from above ; and trees grew out of its face, 
clinging by their roots in the seams of the cliff. Scat- 
tered pines, standing upon its topmost edge, stretched 
* their branches out over the plain ; and the aloe plants, 
the yuccas, and cacti added to the wild picturesque- 
ness of its appearance. 

On reaching the westernmost^ point of the butte, a 
new object presented itself to the eyes of our adven- 
turers. It resembled a range of cliffs, or low moun- 
tains', at a great distance off to the west, and running 
from north to south as far as they could see. It was^ 
in fact, a range of cliffs — similar to those of the 
butte. It was the eastern escarpment of the famous 
“ Llano Estacado, ’ or “ Staked Plain.” The boys 
had often heard hunters speak of this table land, and 
they recognized its features at a glance. The butte 
around which they were travelling was nothing more 


268 


SCATTERING THE CIMMARONS. 


chan an outlying “ mesa” of this singular formation 
of the prairies. 

After gazing, for a moment, on the far-off bluffs, 
our young hunters continued on their course, keeping 
around the southern side of the eminence. Still the 
cliffs rose perpendicularly, and offered no slope by 
which they might be scaled. They appeared even 
higher on this side ; and in some places hung over, 
with dark jutting rocks, and large trees growing hor- 
izontally outward. 

At one place the boys had halted, and were gazing 
upward, when several strange-looking creatures sud- 
denly appeared upon the edge of the precipice above 
them. They were animals, but such as they had 
never seen before. Each of them was as large as 
a common deer, and nearly of the same color — red- 
dish upon the back and flanks, though the throat, hips, 
and under paits were of a whitish hue. They were 
nearly deer-shaped, though of somewhat stouter pro 
portions, and to these they bore a strong resemblance 
in many other respects! In the form of their heads 
and general expression of their faces they resembled 
sheep more than any other animals. But the most 
singular part of them was the horns ; and these ena- 
bled our hunters at a glance to tell what sort of ani- 
mals they were. They were the “ cimmarons,” or 
wild sheep of the Rocky Mountains. 

In regard to their horns, they differed very much 
from one another ; and at first sight there appeared 
to be two distinct. species of animals. Some of them 
had sAcrt horns, — not over six inches in length, — 
rising from the crown of the head and bending slightly 


SCATTERING THE CIMMARONS. 26S 

Dackward, without widening much between the tips. 
These were the females of the flock. The males, 
however, presented an appearance altogether differ- 
ent, owing to the immense size of their horns. These 
grew oui immediately over their eyes, first curving 
backwards, and tlien forwards again, until their points 
nearly touched the jaws of the animals on both sides. 
The horns of some were more than a yard in length, 
and quite half as much in circumference at the base, 
where they were deeply indented with ring-like grooves 
and protuberances, such as are seen in those of the 
common ram. These huge appendages gave the 
creatures a singular and imposing appearance, as they 
stood out upon the brink of the precipice outlined 
against the blue sky. There were about a dozen of 
them in all, — both males and females, — but the 
males could be more plainly seen, as they were 
farther forward upon the cliff, looking down, and 
Bnufflng the tainted air. 

As soon as our young hunters had recovered from 
their first surprise at this novel sight, all three levelled 
their pieces with the intention of firing. But the 
cimmarons seemed to have guessed their design ; for, 
as the guns were pointed upward, they wheeled, and 
were out of sight in a twinkling. 

The boys remained on the spot for more than a 
quarter of an hour, in hopes that the animals would 
again make their appearance on the precipice above. 
The latter, however, did not return. They had satis- 
fied their curiosity, or else, wiser than the antelopes 
they were not going to let it lure them into danger. 
Our hunters, therefore, were at length constrained to 
23* 


270 


SCATTERING THE CIMMARONS. 


leave the spot, ana continue their search for a path 
that might lead upward. 

They were now more anxious than ever to reach 
the summit of the butte. There was a flock of wild 
sheep upon it, and from these they hoped to replen* 
ish their larder. As they proceeded, every crevice 
or ravine that seemed to lead up the cliff was care- 
fully examined ; but upon all its southern front no 
practicable path could be discovered. 

“ There must be some way up,” said Fran9ois, 
“ else how could the sheep have got there } ” 

“ May be,” suggested Basil, “ they were bred up 
there, and have never been down to the plain.” 

“ No,” said Lucien, “ that is not likely, brother. 
There can be no water, I think, upon the table above ; 
and these animals require drink as well as others. 
They must descend occasionally to the spring for it.” 

“ Then there is a path,” said Fran9ois. 

“ No doubt, for them there is,” replied Lucien ; 
“ but for all that, we may not be able to follow it. 
These animals, although hoofed as sheep are, can 
scale a cliff like cats, or spring down one like squir- 
rels. It is in that way they are enabled to escape 
from wolves, panthers, and other beasts who would 
prey upon them.” 

“ I have heard,” said Basil, “ that they can fling 
themselves down for a hundred feet or more upon 
^heir horns, without receiving the slightest injury. Is 
that true. Luce } ” 

“ Both the Indians and trappers affirm it, and intel- 
igent travellers have believed them. Whether it ba 
true or not is a question among naturalists, that 


SCATTERING THE CIMMARONS. 


21\ 


mains to be cleared up. It is certain that they can 
leap downward for a very great distance — that they 
can alight on the narrowest shelves of a precipice 
without a hoof slipping — that they can spring across 
fearful chasms, and run swiftly along ledges where a 
dog or a wolf would not dare to venture. Indeed, 
they seem to delight in such situations — as if it gave 
them a pleasure to court danger, just as a schoolboy 
likes to luxuriate in perilous feats of agility.” 

“ Are these the same that are called ‘ big horns ’ 
by the hunters.?” demanded Fran9ois. 

“ The same,” answered Lucien ; “ ‘ cimmaron ’ is 
the name given by the Spaniards — the earliest ex- 
plorers of these regions. Naturalists have named 
them ‘ argali,’ from their resemblance to the argali, 
(ovis ammon,) or wild sheep of Europe. They are 
not the same species, however. In my opinion, they 
are not wild sheep at all, but true antelopes, as much 
so as the chamois of the Alps, or the prong horns of 
the prairie. Indeed, to say that our common sheep 
sprung from the argali seems a very absurd theory. 
There is but little resemblance between the two ani- 
mals, except about the head and horns of the rams 
and I think no circumstances could have caused 
such a difference as there exists between them in 
other respects. I should say, then, that the big horns 
are not sheep, but antelopes — mountain antelopes 
you might call them, to distinguish them from their 
prong-horned cousins, who prefer to range over the 
plains, while they, on the contrary, spend most of 
their time among the steep and craggy cliffs. 

An exclamat’on from Basil, who was walking • 


272 


SCATTERING THE CIMMARONS, 


few paces in advance, at this moment summoned thi 
attention of his brothers, and put an end to this con* 
versation. They had arrived at the eastern end of 
the butte, which on that side presented a differenf 
appearance from either of the .others. There was a 
deep ravine that indented the cliff, and along its chan* 
nel a sloping path appeared to lead up to the top. 
This channel was filled with large, loose rocks, sur- 
rounded by an underwood of cacti and acacia thorns, 
and it seemed as though the slope was sufficiently 
easy to be ascended by a person on foot. Near the 
bottom of the ravine were very large bowlders ; and 
a spring, more copious than the one where the hunt- 
ers had encamped, ran out from among them, and 
flowed south-eastward through a fringe of grass and 
willows. 

As the boys came up to the spring branch, some 
tracks in the soft mud drew their attention. They 
were of an oblong shape, and larger than the foot- 
prints of a man ; but the deep holes made by five 
great claws at the^ end of each told what animal had 
made them. They were the tracks of the grizzly 
bear. There could be no doubt of this ; for there 
were the prints of the long plantigrade feet, the 
tubercles of the toes, and the holes where the curving 
claws had sunk several inches into the mfid. No 
other animal could have made such marks — not 
even the black or brown bear, whose claws are short 
ji comparison with those of the grizzly monster of 
the mountains. 

For some moments our hunters hesitated undei 
feelings of alarm ; but as the animal that had made 


iiCATTERING IHE CIMMARONS. 273 . 

the tracks was not in sight, their fears gradually sub^ 
sided to some extent, and they began to consider what 
was best to be done. Should they go up the ravine, 
and endeavor to reach the summit ? This would only 
be carrying out their original intention; and they 
would have started upward without hesitation, had 
they not discovered the bear tracks. Seeing these, _ 
however, had put a new aspect on the matter. If 
there were grizzly bears in the neighborhood, — and 
this seemed very certain, — the ravine was the most 
likely place to find them in. Its thick underwood, 
with the numerous crevices that, like caverns, ap- 
peared among the rocks on each side, were just such 
places as grizzly bears delight in. Their lair might 
be in this very ravine, and it would be a dangerous' 
business to stumble upon it in passing up. But our 
young hunters were full of courage. They had a 
keen desire to ascend the butte, — partly out of curi- 
osity, and partly to get a shot at the big horns, — and 
this desire triumphed over prudence. They resolved 
to carry through what they had begun, and at length 
commenced to ascend, Basil taking the lead. 

It was severe climbing withal ; and now and ‘again 
they had to pull themselves up by laying hold of 
branches and roots. They noticed that there was a 
trail, which they followed upward. No doubt the 
big horns, or some other animals, had made this trail 
as they passed up and down — though it was only 
distinguishable by a slight discoloration upon the 
rocks, and by the earth being packed firmer in some 
places, as if by hoofs or feet. A little better than 
half way up, the boys observed a fissure, like the 

R 


274 


SCATTERING THE CIMMARONS. 


entrance of a cave, on one side of the ravine and 
close to the trail. Around this, the earthy color of 
the rocks, the absence of herbage, and the paddiad 
appearance of the soil, suggested the idea that soma 
animal made its den there. They passed it in silence 
climbing as quickly as the nature of the ground would 
allow them, and looking backwards with fear. In a 
few minutes they had reached the escarpment of the 
butte ; and, raising themselves by their hands, they 
peeped over, and at once obtained a view of its whole 
table-like summit. 

It was, as they had conjectured, perfectly level 
upon the top, with an area surface of about twenty 
or thirty acres. Pine trees grew thinly over it, with 
here and there a bush or two of acacia, the species 
known as “ mezquite.” There was plenty of grass 
among the trees, and large tussocks of “ bunch grass,” 
mingling with cactus and aloe plants, formed a spe- 
cies of undergrowth. This, however, was only at 
two or three spots, as, for the most part, the surface 
was open, and could be seen at a single view. The 
hunters had hardly elevated their heads above the 
cliff, when the herd of big horns became visible. They 
were, at the moment, near the western extremity of 
the table ; and, to the astonishment of all, they ap 
peared leaping over the ground as if they were mad ' 
They were not attempting to escape ; for they had 
not as yet noticed the boys, who, on getting above 
nad crept cautiously behind some bushes. On the 
contrary, the animals were skipping about in different 
lirections at the same time, and bounding high into 
he air. After a moment, it was observed that only 


SOLfTiiKING THE o^IMMARONS. 


275 


Uioae with the large horns were taking part in this 
exercise, while the others were browsing quietly near 
them. It was soon evident what the males were about. 
They were engaged in a fierce conflict ; and their 
angry snorts, with the loud cracking of their horns, 
told that they were in terrible earnest. Now the) 
backed from each other, as rams usually do, and anon 
they would dash forward, until their heads met with 
a crash, as though the skulls of both had been splin- 
tered by the concussion. Sometimes two fought by 
ll .Dmselves, and at other times three or four of them 
w'ould come together, as if it mattered little which 
was the antagonist. They all appeared to be equally 
the enemies of one another. Strange to say, the ewes 
did not seem to trouble themselves about the matter. 
Most of these were feeding quietly ; or if at times 
they looked up towards their belligerent lords, it was 
with an air of nonchalance and indifference, as if 
diey cared nothing at all about the result. 

Our hunters felt confident that they had the whole 
flock in a trap. They had only to guard the pass by 
which they themselves had come up, and then hunt 
the big horns over the table at their leisure. It was 
agreed, therefore, that Lucien, with Marengo, should 
remain there, while Basil and Fran9ois stole up for a 
first shot. . They lost no time in putting this plan into 
execution. They perceived that the fight completely 
occupied the attention of the animals; and taking 
advantage of this, Basil and Fran9ois crept over the 
gn3und, shdtering themselves as well as they could, 
'jntil they had got within easy range. Both arrived 
Ic-gether behind a little clump of acacias , and, by s 


276 SCATTERING THE CIMMARONS. 

signal from Basil, they raised themselves logethei m 
take aim. As they did so, they saw one of the rains, 
who had been backing himself for a rush, suddenly 
disappear over the edge of the cliff ! They though' 
he had tumbled over, as his legs were the last of him 
they had seen ; but they had no time to speculate 
upon the matter, as both pulled trigger at the moment 
Two of the animals were laid prostrate by their fire, 
w^hile the rest bounded off, ran out to a point of th^ 
table, and there halted. 

Basil and Fran9ois leaped to their feet, shouting to 
Lucien to be on the alert ; but to their great surprise, 
the cimmarons, as if newly terrified by their shouts, 
and finding their retreat cut off, sprang over the preci- 
pice, disappearing instantly from view ! 

“ They must be all killed,” thought Basil and Fran- 
fois ; and calling Lucien to come up, all three ran to 
the point where the animals had leaped off, and looked 
over. They could see the plain below, but no big 
horns ! What had become of them ? 

“ Yonder ! ” cried Fran9ois ; “ yonder they go ! ” 
and he pointed far out upon the prairie, where several 
reddish-looking objects were seen flying like the wind 
towards the far bluffs of the Llano Estacado. Lucien 
now directed the eyes of his brothers to several ledge- 
like steps upon the cliff, \vhich, no doubt, the animals 
had made use of in their descent, and had thus been 
enabled to reach the bottom in safety. 

As soon as the cimmarons were out of sight, the 
hunters turned towards the two that had been shot — 
both of which, a male and female, lay stretched upon 
the grass, and quite dead. The boys were about to 


SCATTERING THE CIMMAR0N3. 


271 


coi^vmence skinning them, when Basil and Fran<;oi8 
remembered what they had observed just before 
firing ; and, curious to convince themselves whether 
the big horn had actually tumbled over the cliff by 
accident, or leaped off by design, they walked forward 
to the spot. On looking over the edge, they saw 
a tree shaking violently below them, and among its 
branches a large, red body was visible. It was the 
cimmaron ; and, to their astonishment, they perceived 
that he was hanging suspended by one of his huge 
horns, while his body and legs, kicking and struggling, 
hung out at their full length in the empty air ! It was 
evident he had tumbled from the top, contrary to hia 
intentions, and had been caught accidentally in the 
branches of the pine. It was a painful sight to wit- 
ness the efforts of the poor creature ; but there waa 
no means of getting him off the tree, as he was far 
beyond their reach ; and Basil, having loaded his rifle 
in order to put an end to his agony, sent a bullet 
through his heart. The shot did not alter his position, 
as the horn still held on to the branch ; but the animal 
ceased struggling, and hung down dead — to remain 
there, doubtless, until some hungry vulture should 
espy him from afar, and, swooping down, strip tna 
flesh from his swinging carcass ! 

S4 


278 


BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEABS. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

y 

BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEARS. 


The young hunters now laid aside their guns> drew 
iheir knives, and skinned the cimmarons with the 
dexterity of practised “ killers.” They then cut up 
the meat, so as the more conveniently to transport it 
to their camp. The skins they did not care for ; so 
these were suffered to remain on the ground where 
they had been thrown. 

As soon as the “mutton” was quartered, each 
shouldered a piece, and commenced carrying it to- 
wards the ravine, intending to return and bring vhe 
rest at another load or two. On reaching the poi.n 
where the path came up on the table, they saw tha. 
it would be difficult for them to descend with their 
"burdens — as it is more easy to climb a precipice 
than to get down one. Another p^an suggested itself, 
and that was, to pitch the pieces down before them 
to the bottom of the ravine. This they couH accom- 
plish without difficulty. It would do the nr.eat no 
harm, as they intended to cut it up for jerking ; and 
they could easily wash out the dirt and gravel at the 
spring, when they had got it all there. 

This plan was at once adopted ; and taking up 
piece by piece they flung them down the chasm, and 
coulo see them lying among the rocks at the bottom 


BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEARS. 


279 


They then went back to the carcasses, took up fresh 
loads, and returned with them to the ravine. 

As they stepped forward to fling them over, a sight 
met their eyes that caused each one to drop his load 
upon the spot. Down near the bottom of the ravine, 
and moving among the pieces of meat, was a hideous 
object — a huge and ill-shaped animal. Its great 
eize — its long, shaggy hair and grayish-brown color 
— but, above all, its fierce aspect, left no doubt upon 
the minds of our hunters as to what sort of animal it 
was. There was no mistaking the dreaded monster 
of the mountains — the grizzly hear ! 

It was nearly twice the size of the common bear, 
tind it differed from the latter in other respects. Its 
ears were more erect ; its eyes, of burnt sienna color, 
looked more fiery and glaring ; its head and muzzle 
were broader, giving it an appearance of greater 
boldness and strength ; and its long, crescent-shaped 
claws, protruding from the shaggy covering of its 
feet, could be distinctly seen from the top of the cliff. 
With these it had just torn one of the pieces of mut- 
ton into smaller fragments, and was eagerly devour- 
ing it as the boys arrived on the height above. It 
was so busily engaged that it did not notice them. 

All three, as we have said, dropped their loads on 
the ground ; and, after pausing for a moment to look 
down, ran precipitately back for their guns. These 
they got hold of, and examined with care, looking to 
their caps and nipples. They had already loaded 
them, before commencing to skin the cimmarons. 
They now stole cautiously back to the ravine, and 
again ookec over its edge. To their consternation 


280 


BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEARS. 


not one lear^ hut three of these horrid animals were 
busy with the meat below ! One was smaller than 
either of the others, and differed from them in color 
It was quite black, and might have passed for a full- 
grown bear of the black species. It was not that, 
however, but a large cub, of which the other two were 
the parents. 

All three were tearing away at the fresh nioat, 
evidently in high glee, and not caring to consider 
whence such a windfall had come, so long as the3> 
were getting the benefit of it. They occasionally 
uttered loud snorts, as if to express their gratification, 
and at intervals the old male one growled as the cub 
interfered with his eating. The female, on the con- 
trary, as she tore the mutton into fragments, kept 
placing the daintiest morsels before the snout of her 
black progeny, and, with playful strokes of her paw, 
admonished it from time to time to fall to and eat. 
Sometimes they ate standing erect, and holding the 
meat between their fore paws. At others they would 
place the piece upon a rock, and devour it at their 
leisure. Their jaws and claws were red with the 
blood that still remained in the hastily-butchered meat, 
and this added to the ferocious aspect of the trio. 

Our adventurers gazed down upon the scene with 
ieelings of the utmost terror ; and no wonder. They 
had heard such stories of the grizzly bear as would 
have inspired stouter hearts than theirs with feelings 
of the kind. They knew that no hunter, when dis- 
mounted, ever dares to attack this animal ; and, even 
when on horseback, and armed with his trusty rifle, 
ne will only venture to do so when the ground is 


UESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BE5.RS. 38] 

I 

open, and he is sure of escape through the fleetness 
of his horse. They knew that hunters, even when 
in large parties, are often chased by a single bear of 
this kind, after each of them had given him a shot ; 
for as many as twenty bullets have been fired into the 
body of a grizzly bear without bringing him to the 
ground. All these facts came into the minds of oui 
boy hunters at the moment. No wonder they 
felt fear. 

They were in a most perilous situation. "^The bears 
occupied the ravine. There was no other path by 
which they could get down to their horses. They 
had gone almost quite round the butte in their morn- 
ing search. They had seen that it was precipitous 
on all sides, and they had since observed that the 
space between the ravine and their point of starting 
was the same. How, then, were they to get back to 
camp ? There was no way but one — down the ravine 
— and the bears would be certain to attack them 
should they attempt to descend that way. 

The boys gazed at each other with terrified looks, 
repeating what they had to say in muttered whispers 
All three well understood the danger of their position. 
Would the bears, after they had satisfied their hunger, 
go off and leave the ravine ? No. The cave which 
had been noticed was their lair, beyond a doubt 
Even if they should enter it, what certainty was theie 
that they would not rush out upon the boys as they 
were clambering down F If so, they would easily 
overcome the latter among the loose rocks and bushes, 
One or all would fall a sacrifice should they attempt 
to descend. Might the bears not go out upon the 
24 * 


2S2 


BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEARS. 


plain ? Perhaps they might go out as far as the 
spring, either for water, or led by some other want. 
But even so, they would then be able to see the nunt- 
ers coming down, and could easily overtake them 
before the latter could reach the camp, or their 
horses. The horses had been set loose, and were 
now a good distance off upon the prairie. There 
was but little consolation in this thought, and less in 
that which occurred to them next ; which was, that 
the fierce brutes might not be satisfied at what they 
had eaten, but might take it into their heads to clamber 
up to the summit in search of more ! This apprehen- 
sion was the most fearful of all — as the boys knew 
that there was no place upon the table where they 
could long conceal themselves ; and to get down, if 
once discovered and pursued, would be utterly im- 
possible. 

Filled with these appalling thoughts, they crouched 
upon their hands and knees, now peering cautiously 
through the leaves of the aloes, and now whispering 
to each other the various plans of escape that sug- 
gested themselves. But all these plans ended in the 
faint hope that the bears might make a temporary 
absence from the ravine, and give them a chance to 
pass down. They could think of no other mode of 
extricating themselves from their dilemma. 

At times the idea occurred to Basil of taking good 
aim, and firing at one or other of the huge animals. 
Fran9ois applauded this idea, while Lucien as strong- 
ly opposed it. The latter argued that it would only 
irntats the bears, and bring them up at once — that 
there was no chance of killing any of them by a 





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BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEARS. 


283 


single bullet, unless it passed through the brain or the 
heart ; and this, aiming, as they must do, over a cliff, 
was a very problematical affair. Even should one 
fall, the others would avenge the death of their com- 
rade. A volley would not be likely to kill them all. 

Lucien’s arguments prevailed, and the less prudent 
brotners gave up their idea of firing, and remained, 
silently gazing down as before. 

They lay for nearly half an hour walehing and 
waiting. The bears finished their meal, having de- 
voured every bit of the meat. Were they satisfied.' 
No. A shoulder of mutton is but a morsel to the 
ravenous appetite of a grizzly bear ; and it seemed 
only to have set theirs upon edge. They guessed 
whence their lunch had come — from above — and 
there was the place to go in search of their dinner 
They looked up. The boys suddenly drew back their 
heads, hiding them behind the leaves. It was too 
late. The bears had seen them, and the next mo 
ment were galloping upward ! 

The first thought of our hunters was to fly, and 
with this intention they all sprang to their feet. But 
Basil, with a feeling of rage, was determined to try 
whether a rifle bullet might not serve as a check to 
the advancing enemy. He levelled down the pass, 
and fired. His brothers, seeing him do so, followed 
his example, Fran9ois emptying both barrels, that had 
been loaded with buck shot. One of the bears — the 
cub it was — tumbled back down the ravine ; but 
after the volley, the largest of all was seen clamber- 
ing up, growling fiercely as he came. The hunters, 
not having time to reload, ran off over the table, 
scarcely knowing what direction to take. 


284 


BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEARS. 


Whon they had got half way across it, all three 
stopped and looked back. The foremost bear was 
just rising above the cliff ; and the next moment his 
long body was stretched out in pursuit of them. 
They had been in hopes that the pieces of meal 
might have attracted his attention, and drawn him 
aside. This did not happen. The meat was not 
directly upon his path ; moreover, the animal ap- 
peared infuriated as he approached. He had been 
stung by the shot, and was bent upon revenge. 

It was a terrible moment. The angry monster was 
within three hundred yards of them. In a few sec 
ends he would be upon them, and one or the other 
must become his victim. 

In crises like these, bold minds are the most apt to 
conceive expedients. So it was with that of Basil. 
On other occasions he was rash, and often imprudent 
but in moments of extreme danger he became coa 
and collected, even more so than his philosophic 
brother Lucien. A thought, which hitherto had 
strangely been overlooked both by himself and his 
brothers, now in the hour of peril came into his mind. 
He remembered that the grizzly bear is not a tree 
climber / With the thought he shouted out, — 

“ To the trees ! to the trees ! ” at the same time 
embracing one of the pines, and sprawling upwards 
as fast as he could climb. 

Both Lucien and Fran9ois imitated his example, 
each taking to the tree that grew nearest him — for 
the bear was not twenty paces behind them, and there 
was no time to pick and choose. Before the latter 
could come up, however, all three were perched iij 


BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEARS. 


285 


ihe pines, as high among the branches as they could 
safely get. 

The bear galloped forward, and seeing where they 
had gone, ran from tree to tree, growling witb rage 
and disappointment. He rose upon his hind legs, 
and endeavored to reach the lowermost branches 
with his fore paws — as if he intended to draw him- 
self up, or drag the tree down. One by one he 
assailed me pines, shaking them with violence, and, 
with his claws, making the bark fly off in large 
pieces. One in particular — that upon which Fran- 
9ois had taken refuge — being a small tree, vibrated 
so rapidly under the powerful efforts of the brute, that 
its occupant was in danger of being dashed to the 
ground. But the fear of such an event caused Fran- 
9ois to put forth all his energies ; and, encouraged by 
the shouts of Baril and Lucien, he held on manfully. 
The bear, after a while, seeing he could not shake 
lim off, gave it up ; and again tried his strength upon 
.he trees that had been climbed liy the others. This 
ended as before ; except that the bear completely 
skinned off the bark as high as he could reach, and 
made such an impression upon the trunks with his 
teeth and claws that the boys feared he might take it 
into his head to cut down the trees altogethei. He 
could easily have accomplished this ; but, fortunately 
for them, the grizzly bear is not gifted witk reason- 
ing faculties, else their fate would have been a terrible 
one indeed. 

When he found, at length, that he could neither 
drag down the trees, nor shake the boys out of them, 
he gave up the attempt ; and for a time walked fron* 


286 BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEARS. 

one to the other, backwards and forwards, like a sen 
try, now and then uttering a loud “ sniff,” and at 
intervals growling fiercely. At length ne stretched 
ins huge body along the ground, and appeared to 
sleep ! 

What had become of the female and the cub .? 
Had both fallen by the shots fired at them ? Neither 
had as yet made their appearance on the summit — 
tor the boys from their perch could see every inch 
of its surface. They were still in the ravine then ; 
but whether dead or alive could not be determined. 
The dog Marengo, by a wise instinct, had not attacked 
the bear, but had escaped to one edge of the table, 
where he was crouching and cowering with fear, 
taking care not to put himself in the way of being 
seen. 

The young hunters were now in a worse situation 
than ever. They dared not venture out of the trees 
without the certainty of dropping into the jaws of 
the monster ; and they were suffering pain as they 
sat straddled across the slender branches of the pines. 
Besides, they were thirsty — thirsty to an extreme 
degree. They had taken no water with them in the 
morning. The sun was fiercely hot ; and, even while 
engaged in skinning the big horns, they had been 
complaining for want of water. They now began to 
suffer from thirst more than from any other cause. 
Should the bear remain for any length of time, what 
would become of them ? They must either drop 
down to be at once torn to pieces, or perish slowly 
where they sat. These were the alternatives. 

They could make no change in their situation 


BESIEGtr BY GRIZZLY BEARS. 


287 


Their guns were upon the ground, where in their 
haste they had flung tliem. They dared not descend 
to recover them. They were utterly helpless, and 
could do nothing but await the result. As if to 
tantalize them, they now beheld for the first tims 
the objects of their far expedition — the animals they 
had so long desired to come up with — the huffalots ! 
Away to the south-west a multitude of black bodies 
were seen upon the plain, like crowds of men in dark 
clothing. They were moving to and fro, now uniting 
in masses, and now separating like the squadrons of 
an irregular army. Miles of the green prairie were 
mottled by their huge dark forms, or hidden alto- 
gether from the view. They seemed to be moving' 
northward, along the level meadows that stretched 
between the butte and the Llano Estacado. Thk' 
proved to be the case ; for in a few minutes the 
headmost had pushed forward on a line with the 
butte ; and our young hunters could distinguish the 
shaggy, lion-shaped bodies of the bulls that formed 
the vanguard of the “ gang.” Under other circum- 
stances this would have been a glad sight indeed, 
As it was, it only served to render their situation 
more intolerable. The buffaloes were passing to the 
north. Even should they themselves escape, aftei 
a time they might not be able to overtake them ; and 
although they could distinguish none that were white 
— for the main body was a great way off — it was 
highly probable that in so large a herd one or more 
of these would be found. 

As all three continued to watch the black multi 
tudes rolling past, an exclamation, or rather a shaui 


^88 


BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEARS. 


of joy, was uttered by Basil. He was upon a tree 
that stood apart from the others, and gave him an un 
obstructed view of the plains to the west. 

“ Voild ! yonder ! yonder ! ” he cried : “ see ! in 
the middle of the drove ! See, brothers ! — it shines 
in the sun — white — white ! Huzza ! huzza ! ” 

Basil’s speech was scarcely coherent. Neither 
was that of his brothers, when they beheld the object 
to which he had alluded. It could be nothing else, 
ali believed, than the object of their long, wild hunt — 
a white buffalo. All three huzzaed loudly, and for 
a moment forgot the peril of their position. Their 
shouts started the grizzly monster below, who, lazily 
rising to his feet, once more commenced growling 
and shuffling about among the trees. The sight of 
him soon restored the hunters to a sense of the fearful 
realities that surrounded them. 


AM SSCAPE FROM THE BEAR SCRAPE. 289 


CHAPTER XXX. 

AN ESCAPE FROM THE BEAR SCRAPE. 

For hours they sat upon their painful perch — now 
glancing downward at the fierce jailer that watched 
unweariedly below — now gazing out upon the plain, 
where the dusky droves still continued to move. 
For hours the buffaloes kept passing northward, until 
the setting sun glanced redly from their brown 
bodies. Once or twice again the boys thought they 
saw white ones in the herd ; but their eyes had grown 
dim with watching, and the pain which they endured 
now rendered them indifferent to aught else than their 
own misery. Despair had conquered hope — for 
they were choking with thirst — and death stared 
them in the face. 

After a long while the bear again lay down, and 
placing his fore paws over his head, appeared once 
more to sleep. Basil could stand it no longer, and 
now resolved to make an effort to escape. At all 
events, he would try to bring about some change in 
their painful situation. 

Cautioning his brothers to remain silent, he slipped 
down from his tree, and, with the stealthy tread of a 
cat, crept over the ground in search of his rifle. He 
goon laid hands upon it ; and then, returning to hia 
tree, climbed up again. The shaking of the branches 
25 s 


290 AN ESCAPE FROM THE BEAR SCRAPE. 

as' he did so, awoke the bear, who spn ng to ins feet 
and rushed towards the tree. Had he been a momeiK 
sooner, it would have been ill for Basil, fcr the snou 
of the animal, as he reared upward against the trunk 
almost touched the boy’s feet. It was an “ inch of a 
miss as good as a mile,” and Basil was saved. The 
next moment he was seated among the branches, and 
leisurely loading his rifle ! 

Strange to say, the bear appeared to comprehend 
this movement. As if aware of his danger, he kept 
out farther from the trees ; and while rambling about, 
now, for the first time, stumbled upon what remained 
of the carcasses of the big horns. These he pro- 
ceeded to tear up and devour. He was still within 
range of the rifle, though not for a sure shot ; but 
Basil, who knew he could load again, was determined 
either to force him' farther off, or bring him within 
reach ; and with this intent he took aim and fired. 
The bullet hit the bear in the fore shoulder, for he 
was seen to turn his head and tear at the spot with 
his teeth, all the while growling with rage and pain. 
Strange to say, he still continued to devour the meat ! 

Again Basil loaded, and fired as before. This time 
the animal received the shot about the head, which 
caused him to make fresh demonstmtions of his fuiy. 
He dropped his prey, and galloped back among the 
trees, first clutching one and then another, making 
repeated efforts to drag them down. He at length 
came to Basil’s tree, and seized it in his fierce hu". 
This was exactly what the young hunter wanted. He 
bad hastily reloaded, and as the bear stood upright 
mder the branches, he leaned downwards until ihi 


AN E^5CAPE FXOM THE BEAR SCRAPE. 


291 


mu2,zle of his rifle almost touci 3d the snoul of the 
animal. Then came the report — a stream of fire was 
poured into the very face of the bear — and a crash- 
ing sound followed. As the smoke cleared off, the 
huge body was seen kicking and sprawling upon the 
ground. The leaden messenger had done its work. 
It had passed through the brain ; and in a few seconda 
ihe shaggy monster lay motionless upon the earth. 

The boys now dropped from the trees. Francois 
and Lucien ran for their guns, and all three, having 
loaded with care, proceeded towards the ravine. They 
staid not to examine the enemy that had been slain. 
Thirst urged them on, and they thought only of 
getting to the spring below. They were full of hope 
that the she bear and her cub had been killed by 
their first fire, and that they would now find the road 
clear. 

What was their disappointment, when, on looking 
down the ravine, they saw the cub lying doubled up 
near the bottom, and the old one standing sentry over 
it ! The cub was evidently dead. So much the 
worse — as the mother would not now leave it for a 
moment, and both were directly in the path. The 
latter was moving backward and forward upon a 
ledge of rock, at intervals approaching the cub and 
tossing its body with her snout, and then uttering a 
low, querulous moan, that was painful to listen to ! 

The hunters saw at once that their situation was as 
bad as ever. Their retreat was cut off by the infu- 
riated mother, who might remain where she was foi 
an indefinite time. Should they fire down upon her, 
and take the chances of once more escaping to the 


29*4 AN ESCAPE I ROM THE BEAR SCRAPE. 

trees ? This was an alternative which they had 
reason to dread. Their painful experience decided 
them against it. What then ? Remain until afte» 
Aightfall, and try to steal past in the darkness ? Per- 
haps the bear might retire to her cave, and give them 
an opportunity to do so. But in the mean time they 
were dying of thirst ! 

At this moment a happy idea suggested Itself to 
Lucien. He saw the cactus plants growing near. 
There were large globes of the echinocactus. He 
remembered having read that these often assuaged the 
thirst of the desert traveller. The plants were soon 
reached, and their succulent masses laid open by the 
knives of the hunters. The cool, watery fibres were 
applied to their lips ; and in a few minutes their thirst 
was alleviated and almost forgotten. Still the bear 
occupied the ravine, and so long as she remained 
there, there was no possible chance of their getting 
back to camp. They saw, however, that they could 
do nothing better than wait for the night, in hopes 
hat the darkness might bring about something in 
their favor. 

Night soon came on, but not darkness. It chanced 
to be a clear moonlight ; and they saw at once that it 
would then be quite as perilous to go down the ravine 
as it had been during the day. They could hear the 
snorting and growling of the monster below ; and 
they knew she still held the pass. Should they at- 
tempt to descend, she would discover them long be^ 
fore they could get down. She could hear therr 
clambering among the rocks and bushes. The advan^ 
tage would be hers, as she could attack them uca 


N ESCAPE FROM THE BEAR SCRAPE. 293 


waics. Besides, even had the coast been quite clear, 
ihey would have found it difficult to get down the 
steep descent in the night. They dared not attempt 
it. After much deliberation, therefore, they resolved 
lO wait for the morning. 

Throughout all the livelong night they kept awake. 
They heard their steeds neighing below, wondering— 
poor brutes ! — - what had become of their masters. The 
hinny of Jeannette echoed wildly from the cliffs, ano 
was answered by the bark and howl of the prairie 
wolf. These sounds, together with the more ominou* 
snort of the bear, kept sleep from the eyes of oui 
adventurers. They dared not go to sleep, unless by 
perching themselves in the trees ; as they knew not 
the moment the bear might come up to the summit, 
Sleeping upon the slender branch of a mountain pine 
is more painful than pleasant ; and all three preferred 
keeping awake. 

Morning broke at length. The first light showed 
that the shaggy sentinel was still at her post. She 
sat upon the same spot, as though she was guarding 
her dead offspring. The young hunters, but particu- 
larly Basil, began to grow impatient. They were 
hungry, though there were still left some fragments 
of the wild mutton, which they could have eaten. 
But they were thirsty as well. The juice of the 
cactus allayed, but did not quench, their thirst. 
They longed for a draught of cool water from the 
spring below. The buffaloes, too, were gone north- 
ward, “ on the run.” They might never overtake 
them. T'hey might never again have such an oppor 
(unity of procuring that for which they had endured 
25 * 


J594 AN ESCAPE FROM THE BEAR SCRAPE. 

all this suffering. These thoughts influenced all 
three, but Basil more than any. Some attempt mast 
be made to reach the plain, and escape from Ujcit 
elevated prison. 

Basil proposed provoking the bear by firing upon 
her. She would pursue them, he urged, as the other 
“ had done, and meet with a similar fate. This might 
have succeeded, but it would have been a dangerous 
experiment. Lucien suggested that two of them 
should go round the edge of the precipice, and exam- 
ine it more carefully, while the third kept a watch 
upon the bear. Perhaps there might yet be found &omi> 
other path that led to the plain. This offered but a 
faint hope ; still it would take only a few minutes lo 
make the examination, and Lucien’s proposal was 
therefore agreed to. 

“ If we only had a rope,” suggested Francois, 
“ we could let ourselves over the cliff, and then the 
old grizzly might stay there forever, if she pleased.” 

“Ha!” shouted Basil, as if some plan had sud- 
denly come into his mind ; “ what dunces we have 
been ! Why did we not think of it before ? Come, 
brothers ! I’ll get you down in the twinkling of an 
eye — come ! ” 

As Basil uttered these words, he strode off towards 
the spot where tliey had butchered the big horns. 
On reaching it he drew his hunting knife ; and hav- ’ 
ing spread out one of the skins, proceeded to cut it 
into strips. Lucien, at once guessing his design, 
Assisted him in the operation ; while Fran9ois was 
•ent back to the head of the ravine, in order to watch 
die bear 


AN ESCAPE FROM THE BEAR SCRAPE. 295 


111 a few minutes the brothers had cut up both of 
the hides, until the ground was covered with long 
strips. These they knotted firmly together — placing 
cross pieces of pine branches m the knots — until 
dhey had made a raw hide rope over one hundred 
feet in length ! 

They now proceeded to a convenient point in the 
cliflT, — where a pine tree grew near its edge, — and 
tied one end of the new-made rope around the trunk. 
To the other end they fastened Marengo, the three 
guns, — for Francois had arrived upon the ground, — 
and along with these a large stone — in order to test 
the strength of the rope before any of themselves 
should venture upon it. All these things were now 
lowered down until they could see them resting upon 
the prairie below. 

The rope was next made taut above ; and the 
weight of the stone — which was too heavy for Ma- 
rengo to move — kept all fast below. Francois slipped 
down the rope first. There was but little difficulty 
in his doing so, as the pieces of wood formed rests, 
or steps, that prevented him from sliding too fast. 
Lucien followed next, and then Basil ; so that in less 
than half an hour from the time that this plan of 
escape had occurred to them, all three found them- 
selves safe upon the level of the prairie ! 

They did not waste time when they had got there. 
Marengo was released, and the whole party hurried 
in the direction of their horses. These were soon 
reached, caught, and saddled ; and our hunters, no^ 
that they could mount at any moment they pleased 
felt themselves safe. 


296 AN ESCAPE FROM THE BEAR SCRAPE. 

They resolved, however, to remain no longer b) 
the butte, but to ride away from it as soon as they 
had eaten a morsel. A small fire was therefore kin- 
dled ; and a piece of bear meat, hastily broiled, sat- 
isfied their hunger. Basil would have gone back, on 
horseback, to attack the old she bear in the ravine j 
but the more prudent Lucien dissuaded him ; and 
holding their horses in readiness, they packed theii 
camp equipments upon Jeannette, and once more took 
the route 


TF« VULTURES AN") THEIR KING. 


297 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE VULTURES AND THEIR KING 

They turned their horses’ heads westward. It wai 
tlieir intontion to travel in that direction until they 
should strike the tracks of the buffaloes, when they 
would turn to the north, follow upon the trail of these 
animals, and endeavor to come up with the great 
herd. This was clearly the best course they could 
adopt. 

As they were riding past the western extremity of 
the butte, a flock of large birds drew their attention. 
They were vultures. The boys now remembered 
the cimmaron that had fallen over the cliff; and, 
looking up, they beheld its body still swinging from the 
tree. It was that which had attracted the vultures. 

There were many of them — • over a hundred in the 
flock. Some were sailing about in the air. Others 
had alighted on the top of the cliff, or perched them- 
selves on the branches of the pines, while a few 
hovered around the carcass, occasionally settling a 
moment upon its stiffened limbs, and endeavoring 
to penetrate the hide with their beaks. They had 
alieady torn out the eyes of the animal, but the 
tough skin of the body still resisted their attacks. 

These birds were larger than ravens, and of a dark 
color, nearly black. At a distance, they appeared 


THE VULTURES AND THEIR KING. 

purely black ; but, upon a nearer view, an admixture 
of brownish feathers could be perceived ; and this was 
apparent in some of them more than in others. To 
a careless observer they would all have passed for 
birds of the same species, although that was not the 
case. There were two distinct species of them, the 
“ turkey buzzard,” {cathartes aura^) and the black 
vulture, [cathartes atratus.) Our boys knew them 
well enough, for both kinds are common in Louisiana 
and throughout all the southern part of the United 
States. 

I have said that a careless observer would mistake 
the one species for the other. They are nearly of 
the same size and color, though the carrion crow is 
of a deeper black than the buzzard ; but there are 
other points of difference that would strike the eye 
of a naturalist at once. The buzzard is a much more 
handsomely formed bird, and is more graceful, both 
upon the ground and while sailing through the air. 
His wings are longer and more elegantly plumed, and 
his tail is more tapering. The skin of his naked 
head and neck, as well as that of his legs, is of a 
reddish or flesh color ; while the same parts of the 
black vulture are a mixture of black and gray, the 
black being caused by a down that grows thinly 
over the skin. They are easily distinguished in the 
air. The black vulture flies rather heavily, flap- 
ping his wings several times with a quick repetition, 
and then holding them horizontally for a hundred 
yards or so, while his short, ill-proportioned tail is 
spread out like a fan. The buzzard, on the contrary^ 
holds his wings at rest, not in a horizontal position, 


THE VULTURES ANE THEIR KII?G. 


299 


mi bent considerably upward. In this attitude he 
will skim along for a quarter of a mile, without a 
single stroke of his wings, and that, too, not down- 
ward, as may be supposed, but along a level, or a 
line often curving upward ! How he executes this 
upward movement is not known. Some suppose that 
he possesses the power of inflating himself with heated 
air, which enables him to soar upward without using 
his wings. This theory is not very clear, and requires 
demonstration before it can be accepted as the true 
one. Others say that he is carried up by the impetus 
he has already obtained, by having previously de- 
scended from an equal or greater height. This is 
not true, however, as the buzzard may be often seen 
to rise in this way after a long flight along the level 
line. It is just possible that the same principle by 
which the New Holland savages direct their boom 
erangs, or by which flat stones thrown horizontally 
often take an upward direction, — a fact known to 
every boy, — I say it is just possible that this princi- 
ple, as yet but little understood, may be instinctively 
acted on by the buzzard, and have something to do 
with his flight. Be the facts as they may, it is an 
interesting sight to watch one of these birds, with 
broad wings outlined against the blue background of 
the heavens, now swimming in circles, now shooting 
off in horizontal lines, and anon soaring upward or 
tracing the undulating curves of the ogee. It is, to 
lay the least of it, a striking and beautiful sight. 

The turkey buzzard is, upon the whole, a nobler 
bird than the black vulture. There is more of the 
eagle about him. Both, it is true, are carrion feeders 


500 THE VULTURES AND THEIR KING. 

like all vultures ; but the buzzard also hunts aftei 
other food, such as snakes, hzards, and small quadru 
peds. He will attack young lambs or pigs, when a 
good opportunity offers. So, too, will the black vub 
ture, but not so frequently. Neither of them, how 
ever, do much harm in this respect ; and their preying 
oil such animals is an exception, and not a rule. They 
only do so, probably, when driven to it by hunger. 
Both species are gregarious, although they do not 
always appear in flocks. The buzzards, particularly 
are often seen hunting alone, or in twos or threes ; but 
their mode of life bringi them together in large num- 
bers. They often assemble, — both buzzards and 
black vultures, — to the number of hundreds, over a 
single carrion. The buzzards, however, are not so 
plenty as the black vultures ; and in one of these 
flocks more than three fourths will be found of the 
latter species. The buzzards are the shyer birds; 
and they are less disposed to keep together in flocks. 
It has even been said that these are not gregarious, as 
they are often seen alone in the high regions of the 
air. But it is certain that not only do numbers of 
them roost together at night, but they even associate 
with the black vultures at such times. 

In most countries, the vulture is a privileged bird. 
He is looked upon as a cheap and useful scavenger, 
clearing away the carcasses of dead animals that 
would otherwise pollute the atmosphere. This is a 
matter of much importance in hot countries, and it if 
only in such countries that vultures are commonly 
found. What a beautiful illustration of the complete- 
ness of Nature’s laws I As you get into high lati- 


THE VULTURES AND THEIR KING. SffJl 

ludtfs iud colder regions, where the air is not so 
readily tainted by putrid substances, the necessity 
for such a scavenger no longer exists, and he is 
rarely met with. There the great vulture gives place 
to the croaking raven and the small carrion crow. 

Vultures, I have said, are privileged birds. In 
most countries they are protected by law. This is 
the case with regard to the present species, both in 
English and Spanish America, where there is a fine 
for killing them. The consequence is, they are sel- 
dom molested, and in many places are so tame that 
they will permit you to come within a few feet of 
them. In the cities and villages of the Southern 
States they alight in the streets, and go to sleep upon 
the housetops". They do the same in the cities of 
Mexico and South America, where both species are 
also found. 

As soon as our young hunters had got opposite the 
cliff where the vultures were, they reined up, deter- 
mined to remain a while, and watch the manoeuvres 
of the birds. They were curious to see how the 
latter would conduct themselves with a prey so singu 
larly situated as was the carcass of the cimmaron. 
They did not dismount, but sat in their saddles, about 
a hundred yards from the cliff. The vultures, of 
course, did not regard their presence, but continued to 
alight, both upon the escarpment of the precipice and 
upon the loose rocks at its foot, as if no one was near. 

“ How very like the buzzards are to hen turkeys ! ’ 
remarked Fran9ois. 

“ Yes,” rejoined Lucien ; “ that is the reason why 
they are called ‘ turkey buzzard?.’ 

26 


302 


THE VULTUEES AND THEIR KING. 


Fran9ois’ observation was a very natural one 
riiere are no two birds, not absolutely of the sama 
species, that are more like each other than a turkey 
buzzard and a small -sized turkey hen that is, the 
common domestic turkey of the black variety, which, 
like the buzzard, is usually of a brownish color. So 
like are they, that, at the -distance of a hundred yards, 
I have often taken the one for the other. This re- 
semblance, however, extends no further than to the 
general appearance — the shape and color. In most 
other respects they differ, as you may imagine, very 
materially. 

“ Talking of turkey buzzards,” continued Lucien, 
“ reminds me of an anecdote that is told in relation 
to one.” 

“ O, let us have it, brother,” said Fran 9 ois. 

“ With pleasure,” replied Lucien. “ It is intended 
to illustrate the superior cunning of the white over the 
Indian race, and is a pretty fair sample of the honesty 
and justice which the former has too often observed 
in its dealings with the latter. It is as follows : — 

“ A white man and an Indian went out together for 
a day’s hunting. They agreed that the game should 
be equally divided at night, no mattei who had killed 
the largest share of it. During the day the Indian 
shot a turkey, and the white hunter a turkey buzzard ; 
and these two birds were all that either of them were 
able to meet with. The proceeds of the day’s hunt 
were brought together; and now arose a difficulty 
about an equal division of the gans.e. Both knew 
well enough the value of a good fat turkey, and 
both were as well acquainted with the utter worth- 


THE VHLTURES AND THEIR KING. 


tessness of the buzzard — which was, in fact, worth 
less than nothings as its filthy odor was extremely re« 
pulsiv^e. It was evident that the only way of making 
a fair division would have been to cut the turkey in 
two equal parts, and each to take one of the halves. 
The white man, however, would not agree to this, 
but proposed that one of them should take the whole 
turkey, and the othei the buzzard. 

“ ‘ It’s a pity,’ argued he, ‘to spoil the birds. It’s 
better for each of us to take one.’ 

“ ‘ Very well,’ said the Indian. ‘ Shall we draw 
lots for the choice ? ’ 

“ ‘ O, no,’ replied the other. ‘ It’s not worth while 
to do that. I’ll deal fairly with you. I’ll take the 
turkey, and let you have the buzzard ; or you can 
take the buzzard^ and I’ll keep the turkey.’ 

“ The Indian reflected, that in either case the buz- 
zard would fall to his share ; but the white man’s 
proposition seemed a just one ; and, as he could find 
no flaiv in its fairness, he was constrained, though 
reluctantly, to accept it. The white hunter, there- 
fore, shouldered his turkey, and trudged off home- 
wards, leaving the poor Indian supperless in the 
woods.” 

‘ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” laughed Fran9ois ; “ what a shal- 
- low Indian he must have been to be so easily out- 
witted ! ” 

’ Ah ! ” said Lucien, “ he was not the only one of 
his race who has been similarly deceived by white 
men. Man^ a pewter dollar has been passed upoc* 
these simple sons of the forest, in exchange foi 
their furs and peltries. I lave reason to saspecl 


304 


THE VULTURES AND THEIR KING. 


zhat one very rich fur trader, now dead, laid the foun 
dation of his immense fortune in this way ; but my 
suspicions do not amount to pcsitive proof, and there- 
fore I do not assert it for a fact. -Perhaps some histo* 
rian may one day assail even the character of th<a 
good Penn, who is said to have purchased from tho 
Indians a territory of three square miles^ but took cars 
to have it measured off as three miles square! ! 
hope the story is not a true one.” 

“ Why, that,” said Fran 9 ois, “ is almost the same 
trick as Dido performed with the bull’s hide.” 

“ Yes,” replied his brother ; “ so you see that dis- 
honesty belongs exclusively to no age or nadon. It 
has existed in the past, and will continue to exist, 
until men, becoming more and more highly educated, 
will be moved by nobler ambition than the mere 
spirit of gain. I believe there is such a time in the 
far future.” 

The conversation was again directed to the subject 
of the vultures. These now formed a flock of at 
least two hundred ; and others were still arriving 
upon the ground. As fresh ones came, they would 
wheel about for a while in the air, and then drop down 
and perch themselves on the trees and rocks. Some 
sat crouching with drooping wings, and heads drawn 
in — so that their long, naked necks were quite con- 
cealed under their ruff-like collars. Others stood 
erect, with both wings raised from the body, half 
unfolded, and held “ akimbo,” as eagles are often 
seen, and as they are sometimes represented upon 
coins and standards. It is supposed that both vultures 
and »5agles spread their wings in this fashion to cool 


THE VULTURES AND THE R KING. 305 

liiemselves when they are too warm, and sun them 
selves when too cold — for they do so in cold as well 
ns warm weather ; and in this attitude they exhibit a 
singular and rather pleasing picture. 

Some of the vultures could be seen desv. ending 
from the very highest regions of the air. They 
could be noted like little specks against the blua 
sky, gradually growing larger and larger, until their 
broad wings cast moving shadows upon the sunlit 
sward, as the birds floated spirally downward. Others 
were observed approaching in a horizontal direction 
— some of them seeming no bigger than sparrows, 
as they first caught the eye upon the distant horizon. 

“ What a distance some of them must have trav- 
elled ! ” remarked Franyois ; “ and how do you think 
they know where to come ? There was not one in 
sight when we killed those big horns.” 

“ They have been guided by their scent, of 
course,” replied Basil : “ they have great power in 
that way.” 

“ Not so, brother,” interrupted Lucien ; “ that is 
one of the errors of your closet naturalists — your 
Buffbn-s and Cuviers — propagated by them until it 
has become proverbial. Strange to say, it is alto- 
gether erroneous. It has been proved that vultures 
possess the sense of smell in a less degree even than 
most other creatures. Dogs and wolves far excel 
them in this respect.” 

“ How, then, have they found this carrion, fof 
instance ? ” 

“ By their sight — for that sense they possess in i 
high degree af perfection.” 

96 * 


T 


S06 


THE VULTURES AND THEIR KING. 


“ But how can that be, Luce ? ” rejoined Basil 

See ! yonder are some coming from the eastward. 
Now, as the butte is between them and the big horn 
how is it possible they could have seen it ? ” 

“ I do not say they have ; but they have seen 
others, who have seen others, who in their turn hav« 
seen others, who actually have seen the carrion.” 

“ O, I understand : you mean that some one oi 
more have first spied it ; and, while making towards 
it, have been observed by others at a greater dis- 
tance ; and those again who have followed them 
have been followed by others still more distant, and 
so on.” 

“ Precisely so ; and this at once accounts for the 
fabulous stories of vultures scenting carrion at the 
distance of miles — none of which stories are true 
but have been propagated by men who, perhaps, 
never saw a vulture in the air, but who, in order to 
make their books amusing, have readily adopted the 
exaggerated tales of every Munchausen they could 
meet with.” 

“ Your theory is certainly the more probable one.” 

“ It is the true one. It has been proved to be sc 
by numerous experiments with vultures, all of which 
have gone to show that these birds have any thing but 
a keen sense of smell. On the contrary, it is remark* 
ably weak ; and I think it is well for them it is so, 
considering the sort of food they live upon.” 

“ This flock must have gathered from all parts,” 
remarked Franpois ; “ we see them coming in from 
every point of the compass. No doubt some of them 
have travelled fifty miles.” 


THE VULTURES AND THEIR KING. 


307 


As likely a hundred,” rejoined Lucien. “ Such 
SI journey is ? Jiere bagatelle to them. Now, if I 
knew the precise moment at which the carrion was 
discovered by the first one, I could tell how far each 
of the others had come — that is, each of them whose 
arrival we are now witnessing.” 

“ But how could you do that, brother ? ** demanded 
Basil and Fran9ois, in astonishment; “pray tell us 
how.” 

“ I should make my calculation thus : In the first 
place, they have all started at the same time.'^"' 

“ At the same time ! ” interrupted Basil ; “ how 
can that be, if some of them were a hundred miles 
off.?” 

“ No matter what distance,” replied Lucien ; “ it is 
all the same. They have all commenced their flight 
hither, not eaactly^ but nearly^ at the same moment. 
Is it not plai .1 } These birds, while hunting for their 
food, sweep through the air in great circles. Each 
of these circles overlooks a large tract of the earth’s 
surface below. Their circumferences approach or 
intersect each other — so that, in fact, the whole 
country is under a network of them. Now, as 
soon as one of the vultures, thus sailing about, dis- 
covers with far-seeing eye the carrion below, he im' 
mediately drops from his high orbit, and wings hia 
wav downward. He is observed by that one circling 
nearest him ; who, well knowing the cause of the 
alteied flight of his companion, at once forsakes hia 
own orbit and follows ; and he, in his turn, is followed 
by another ; and so on to the end of the chain.” 

“ But how can one of them tell that the other it 


SOS 


THE VULTURES AND THEIR KIN^. 


gone in pursuit of prey ? ” inquired Fraii9o'.s, ilei 
rupting Lucien in his explanation. 

“ Suppose you saw Basil at a great distance off oii 
the prairie, could you not tell by his actions when he 
had started game and was in pursuit of it ? ” 

“ O, yes ; I could easily.” 

“Well, then, the vultures, who have far keener 
flight than you, understand each other’s movements 
thoroughly, — even to the shaking of a feather, — so 
that they can easily tell when one of their number 
has a good dinner in sight. 

“ I think I have shown,” continued Lucien, “ that 
thev all start within a few seconds of the same time ; 
and as they fly in a nearly direct line towards the 
c''i3ect, if we knew the rate at which they go, it would 
only remain for us to mark the date of their arrival, 
to be able to tell how far they had come. Of course 
it is supposed that we have already noted the time 
when the first one came upon the spot. 

“ If we suppose,” continued Lucien, as he pointed 
up to the vultures, “ that the first of these has alighted 
Here two hours ago, and we allow them a flight of 
thirty miles an hour, we may then safely conclude 
that some of those now coming in have made a 
‘ourney of sixty miles this morning. What think 
you of my theory ? ” 

“ It is, to say the least of it, a curious one, brother,” 
replied Basil. 

“ But what are they waiting for now ? ” demanded 
Fran9ois ; “ why don’t they at once fall to, and devouj 
»he big horn ? ” 

Frftn9ois’ interrogatory was a very natural on*' 


THE VULTURES AND TLEIR KING. 


309 


Most of the vultures, instead of attacking the carrion, 
were, as we have already seen, sitting perched upon 
1 ocks and trees — some of them in listless attitudes, 
as though they were not hungiy, and did not care 
to eat. 

Basil proffered an explanation. 

“No doubt,” said he, “ they are waiting until the 
flesh becomes putrid. It is said that they prefer it in 
tha state.” 

‘ And that,” remarked Lucien, “ is another asser- 
tion that has no foundation in fact. They do not pre- 
fer it in that state. On the contrary, it is certain 
that vultures like their food better when fresh, and eat 
it so when they can get it.” 

“ And what hinders them now } ” inquired Franpois. 

“ The tough hide hinders them. These birds do 
not possess the great muscular power in their claws 
that eagles do ; else you would soon see the big horn 
reduced to a skeleton. They are waiting until its 
skin becomes more tender, through decomposition, so 
that they may be able to tear it open. That is why 
they are waiting.” ' 

Such was evidently the true .explanation ; for each 
of the new comers was seen to attack the carcass ; 
and, after finding he could make nothing of it, fly off 
and settle quietly down on the rocks or trees. 

As the boys watched them, however, some more 
eager than the rest effected an incision, — at the spot 
where BasiPs bullet had entered the body of the 
animal, — and were rapidly widening it. The others 
perceiving this, began to fly towards the spot ; and, 
n less than five minutes, the tree was b’ack witn 


310 


THE VULTURES AND THEIR KINO. 


the filthy birds, until they crowded each other upor 
the branches. Several perched upon the limbs and 
horns of the animal itself, until there was not a 
ppace left for another to stand upon. But their 
united weight, combined with that of the carcass, 
was too much for the roots of the pine. A loud 
crash was heard, followed by the sharp, ratlike 
9>cmeaking of the vultures, as they flapped hurriedly 
away ; and, as the broken tree bent downwards, the 
body of the big horn was precipitated to the earth, 
and fell upon the rocks below ! 

There was a great commotion among the assem- 
bled birds ; and the sound of their broad wings, hur- 
riedly beating the air, could have been heard for 
miles oft'; but their fright was soon over, and they 
all settled down again near the carrion. 

The accident was in their favor rather than other- 
wise. The already decomposing body, by falling 
from such a vast height upon the sharp rocks, was 
mangled, and the skin burst open ! This the foul 
birds were not slow in perceiving ; and first one, and 
then another, flapped towards it, and commenced 
their horrid meal. In a few moments they were 
crowding over the body, hissing like geese, striking 
at each other with wdngs, beak, and claws, and alto- 
getlier exhibiting such a scene of ravenous fiunger 
and angry passion as would be difficult to portray. 
They soon got in among the entrails of the animal, 
and commenced dragging them forth. Sometimes 
tw:; of them would seize a long string of these, and 
each, swallowing from opposite ends, would meet 
each other in the middle of the piece. Then would 


THE VULTURES .AND THEIR KING. 


311 


be witnessed a ‘singular scene, as the birds dragged 
one another over the ground, each tiying to make 
the other disgorge his filthy morsel ! The young 
hunters, amused by these curious episodes, agreed to 
remain and watch them for a while ; and with this 
intent they dismounted from their horses, so as to 
relieve the animals of their weight. 

A new object of interest now presented itself to 
th 3 ir attention. Fran9ois discovered it. Francois 
had been directing his eyes upward, watching the 
graceful motions of such of the vultures as were still 
in the air. All at once he was heard to exclaim, — 

“ A white buzzard ! a white buzzard ! ” 

Lucien and Basil saw that Fran9ois pointed to the 
sky overhead. They raised their eyes in that direc- 
tion. There, sure enough, was a white bird ; but of 
what species neither of them could make out. It was 
flying at a vast elevation — higher, apparently, than 
any of the buzzards ; but even at that great height, 
it appeared larger than any of them. Like them, it 
seemed to sail about with great ease, as if the sky 
was its natural home. 

When first observed, it appeared about as large as 
a gull ; and the boys might have taken it for one, 
not knowing any other white bird likely to be flying 
about at such a height ; but as there were several 
buzzards near it, and evidently heloio it, and as these 
looked no bigger than swallows, what must be its 
size .? It was not .only bigger than a buzzard, but, 
at least, three times the size of any one of them. 
Thus calculated Lucien, and his calculation was no! 
far from the truth. 


312 


THE VULTURES ANI THEIR KING. 


The strange bird then coulc be no gull. Wha 
was it ? A swan ? No. Its mode of flight an- 
swered that question at once. It bore no resemblance 
whatever to the short, rapid flapping of the swan, noi 
to the flight of any water bird. Was it a pelican ? 
or, perhaps, a white ibis ? {tantalus alba ;) or the 
white egret heron } {ardea egretta.) No ; it was none 
of these. The slow, laborious flight of thesa great 
wading birds would have been at once recognized by 
any of the boys, who were accustomed to see them 
often hovering over the bayous of Louisiana. But 
this bird flew differently from any of these. It used 
its wings more after the manner of the buzzards 
themselves, or the black vultures ; but as the boys 
could think of no white bird of similar flight, they 
were puzzled as to what it might be. Its size and 
mode of flying would have led them to believe it was 
an eagle ; but its color forbade this supposition. 
There were no white eagles, that ever they had 
heard of. 

I have said that, when first seen by Fran9ois, the 
strange bird appeared about the size of a gull ; but, 
as the young hunters stood gazing up at it, they saw 
that it was gradually becoming larger and larger. 
They knew from this that it was descending towards 
the earth, and, to all appearance, directly over the 
spot occupied by themselves and the vultures. As 
they had all three grown very curious to know what 
sort of a , creature it might be, they were expressing 
their hopes that it would continue its descent. They 
knew that it must have seen them already; and it 
Would, therefore, be useless for them to attempt 


THE VULTURES AND THEIR KING. 313 

eoncealiug themselves. In fact, ther<i was no cove? 
for them, had they wished to do so. 

As they stood watching and waiting, an exclama* 
tion, uttered by all three at the same mcment, an- 
nounced that another white bird was in sight ! It 
was still high up, like a spot of snow upon the sky ; 
but it, too, was making downward, in the track of the 
former, and appeared to be of the same species 
This soon became evident ; for the one last seenj 
descending more vertically, soon overtook the other ; 
and both together continued to sail downward upon a 
spiral curve. 

In a few moments they had arrived within two hun- 
dred yards of the earth ; and now they circled slowly 
around, looking down as they flew. 

They were directly over the spot occupied by the 
vultures ; and as the day was one of the brightest, 
the boys had an opportunity of beholding two of the 
most beautiful birds they had ever seen. They were 
not entirely white — although, in looking at them from 
below, they appeared so ; but as, in sailing round the 
circle, they sometimes held themselves sidewise in 
the air, their backs at intervals could be seen dis- 
tinctly. It was then noticed that the upper part of 
their bodies was of a rich cream color, while their 
wings above — both plumes and coverts — were of a 
glossy brown. Their tails were tipped with black; 
but the whole of the under part of their bodies was 
of a pure, milklike white. But the most singular 
appearance about these birds was presented on their 
heads and necks. These were entirely naked of 
gathers as far down as the shoulders, — where tha 
21 


314 


THE VULTCRES AND THEIR KING. 


neck was encircled by a large ruff, that, looked 1 ke a 
tippet, — and the naked skin of both head and neck 
exhibited the most brilliant colors of orange and red. 
These colors were not mixed nor mottled together 
but each be'onged to separate parts of the membrane 
forming distinct and regular figures, — according to 
:he manner in which the cartilaginous covering ia 
itself most singularly divided. Their beaks were 
ora.nge red ; and over their bases grew crestlike pro- 
Uberances, like the comb of a cock. Their eyes had 
dark pupils and white irides, encircled by rings of a 
deep red color ; and, in short, the whole appearance 
of these beautiful creatures was such that, like the 
peacock, when once seen, they could never be 
forgotten. 

“ I have never seen one of them before,” remarked 
Lucien, “ but I have no difficulty in telling what 
they are.” 

“ What ” inquired Basil and Fran 9 ois, impa- 
tiently. 

“ King vultures.'*'* 

As Lucien said this, the birds, that did not seem 
to regard the presence of the party, swooped sud- 
denly down towards the carrion. The boys followed 
them with their eyes — curious to witness what effect 
their arrival would have upon the buzzards and black 
vultures. To the surprise of all, not one of the latter 
was now to be seen near the carcass ! While the 
attention of the party had been directed lO the king . 
vultures, the others had been regarding them as 
well; and, knowing from experience what these 
•»reat birds were, both buzzards and black vulture* 


THE URES AND THEIR KING. 


su 


hhd scattered precipitately, and now sat upon the 
rocks at a respectful distance. 

The king vultures, without seeming to heed their 
presence, hopped up to the carrion, and commenced 
tearing it with their beaks. In a few minutes, these 
creatures, that had appeared so clean and beautiful, — 
for the king vultures are as proud of their plumage 
as peacocks, and usually keep it in the best order, — 
exhibited a picture of filth that was disgusting to look 
upon. The brilliant hue of their heads and necks 
was changed into a dark blood color, and their white 
breasts became dappled with gore. Their vulturous 
appetites rendered them regardless of all else. 

“ Shall we fire, and kill one ? ” asked Fran9ois. 

“ No,” said Lucien, “ it is not right to deprive the 
poor creatures of life. If you wish to get a nearer 
view of them, have patience, and your wish may 
be gratified without the expenditure of powder and 
lead.” 

What Lucien said proved correct. At the end of 
half an hour or so, the birds appeared to have eaten 
as much as they could get into their stomachs, and 
commenced stalking over the ground with a heavy, 
sluggish gait. The boys, who had waited patiently, 
now ran forward ; and, finding that the vultures 
were unable to rise into the air, after a chase — in 
which Marengo took a prominent part — secured them 
both. 

But they did not hold them long ; for the moment 
that Franpois, who was the most eager to seize the m, 
aid his hands upon one, he let it go again with an 


316 


THE VULTURES AND THEIR KING. 


exclamation of disgust, and ran faster from the vul 
ture than the latter could run from him ! 

The fetid odor of the creatures — which was quite 
as strong as that of the carrion itself — was too 
much for the olfactory nerves of our heroes ; and 
they 'were all three glad enough co let the king 
vultures off without a second encounter. 

As they returned to their horses, they observed 
that the buzzards and black vultures were once more 
collecting about the remains of the big horn. They 
had been joined by several prairie wolves ; and these 
were snarling and snapping, now driving off the birds, 
and now receiving a blow from the long wings of the 
latter, that caused them to growl more fiercely than 
ever. Our adventurers did not wait for the finale of 
this hideous scene, but remounting, once more headed 
their horses to the prairie. 


HORB TALK ABOUT THE '^LTURttS. 


an 


CHAPTER xxxn. 

MORE TALK ABOUT THE VULTURES. 


'Fhey conversed about the vultures as they rode 
away from the butte. The naturalist of the party 
had much to say of these picturesque birds ; and the 
curiosity of Basil and Franjois had been excited by 
the appearance of a species new to them — the king 
himself. 

“ With regard to the vultures,” observed Lucien, 
“ the study of their natural history has been consid- 
erably impeded by the closet naturalists, and particu- 
larly by the Frenchmen — who are fonder than all 
others of making a parade of science, by the absurd 
multiplication of genera and species. This, in the 
ausence of any real knowledge of the habits of the 
animals, gives them an opportunity of adding some- 
thing to what has been already said, and leaves the 
reader under the impression that these learned anato- 
mists know all about the thing ; and that is whax such 
gentlemen desire, and nothing more. 

“ There are not over two dozen species of vultures 
ui the world, and yet the French naturalists make 
almost as many genera of them, mutiplying high- 
sounding names to such an extent that the mind of 
the student is quite bewildered with what would 
otherwise proY3 a most simple study. 

27 * 


318 


MORE TALK ABOUT THE VULIURES. 


“ All the vultures are so similar in iheir physiog 
nomy and habits, that they might be treated as one 
genus. Indeed, it would not lead to great confusion 
in ornithological science if they were genericall3r 
classed with the eagles — as both kinds have man} 
points of similitude. The vultures often kill their 
prey as eagles do, and it is certain that they do 
prefer it in a putrid state. The eagles do not always 
kill their prey, and many of them eat carrion. Som#» 
of the vultures — such as the lammergeyer — have 
almost all the habits of the eagle. The lammergeyer 
always kills what he eats, unless when pressed b} 
hunger ; and there is a singular fact in relation to the 
food of this bird — he prefers certain parts of the 
bones of animals to their flesh ! ” 

It is somewhat strange that the boy hunter Lucien 
should have known this “ fact,” as I believe it is not 
in possession of the naturalists. I myself was made 
acquainted with it by one of the “ feeders” of the 
superb collection in Regent’s Park, who had observed 
this propensity for bone eating in a young African 
lammergeyer. He had observed also that the bird 
was always healthier, and in better spirits, on the 
days when he was indulged in his favorite osseous 
diet. These men usually know more of natural his- 
tory than the catalogue makers and teeth measurers 
of the museum and the closet. 

“ Perhaps,” continued Lucien, “ one of the most 
essential points of difference between the vulture and 
eagle lies in the claws. The claws of the vultures 
are less developed, and their limbs want tne muse alaf 
oower that those of eagles possess. Hence the for- 


MORE TALK ABOUT THE VULTURES. 


319 


mer are less able to kill a living animal, or tear the 
carcass of a dead one. They are unable, also, tc 
raise a large prey in their claws ; and the stories of 
vultures carrying off deer and full-grown sheep are 
mere fables. Even the condor — the largest of the 
species known — cannot lift into the air a weight of 
more than ten pounds. A deer of that weight would 
be rather a small one, I fancy. Most of the wonder- 
ful stories about the condor were propagated by the 
discoverers and conquerors of Spanish Anoerica , 
who, if they were great conquerors, were also the 
greatest braggarts the v/orld ever saw. The books 
they have left behind them fully prove my assertion , 
and I believe that their accounts of the Mexican and 
Peruvian nations, whom they subdued, are not a whit 
‘ less exaggerated than their stories about the condor. 
Three centuries could not have so completely swept 
away the vestiges of such a civilization as they 
describe — leaving scarcely a trace of it to attest the 
truth of their assertions. It is true that in these coun- 
tries are to be found monuments of a high state of 
civilization ; but these were in ruins long previous to 
the discovery of the Spaniards ; and the feeble races 
who submitted so easily to the latter knew no more 
about the builders of these monuments than we do. 
The same vestiges of a civilized people are found in 
the deserts of North America , and yet the Spanish 
writers can tell nothing of them, farther than that 
they existed at the period of the discoverv just as they 
are cow.” 

“ How many kinds of vultures are there in Amer- 
ca r ” inquired Fran9ois, whose mind ran more upon 


320 


MORE TALK ABOUT TlfJE VULTURES. 


the present than the past ; and who, as we have 
already hinted, was a great boy for birds. 

“ There are five species well known,” replied 
Lucien ; “ and these are so different from each othel 
that there is no difficulty in distinguishing them. 
These species form two genera — sarcoramphus and 
cathartes. The sarcoramphs have a fleshy protuber- 
ance over the beak — hence the generic name, which 
18 a compound of two Greek w'ords, signifying Jlesh, 
and leak or hill. The cathartes., or ‘ purging vul- 
tures,’ derive their name from a singular habit — that 
of throwing up their food again, not only when feed- 
ing their young, but also when providing for one 
another during the period of incubation. 

“ The condor is a true sarcoramph — in fact, one 
of the most marked features of this bird is the fleshy, 
cartilaginous crest that surmounts his head and part 
of his beak. This, however, is only found upon the 
males, as the female birds are not crested in a similar 
manner. The condor, when in full plumage, might 
be called a black-and-white bird. His body under- 
neath, his tail, shoulders, and the buts as well as the 
outer margins of his wings are all of a dark, nearly 
b ack color ; but his wings, when closed, give him a 
large space of grayish white from the back to the tail. 
The downy ruff around the breast and neck i;* milk 
white, and the naked, wrinkled skin of the neck cjjd 
head is of a blackish-red or claret color, while the legs 
are ashy blue. It is only when full growm — nearly 
three years old — that the condor obtains the^e col- 
ors ; and up to that time he is without the white collai 
around his neck. The young birds, for many months 


MORE TALK ABOUT THE VULTURES. 


321 


Alter they are hatched, have no feathers, but a soft, 
thick down, like young goslings or cygnets ; and even 
at two years of age their color is not black and white, 
but a dirty, brownish black. 

“ The full-grown condor usually measures about 
eight feet from tip to tip of his wings ; but there can 
be no question that specimens exist, and have been 
seen by truthful travellers, that measured fourteen 
feet and some inches ! 

“ The condor, like other vultures, feeds principally 
upon carrion ; but, when pressed with hunger, he will 
kill sheep, lambs, vicunas, young lamas, deer, and 
other animals. The larger kinds- he can master- by 
attacking their eyes with his powerful beak, which isf 
his principal weapon. That he can kill boys of six- 
teen years old, as Garcilaso de la Vega asserts, is, 
like many other statements of that celebrated author, 
simply untrue ; but that he frequently attacks, and, 
according to the Indians, sometimes jowis to deaths little 
children, is probable enough. If he can kill full- 
grown sheep or vicunas, there is nothing remarkable 
about his doing the same for a child five or six years 
of age ; and, indeed, it is certain that such instances 
have occurred. 

“Almost any eagles can do as much, and would, 
provided they were hungry, and children were left 
exposed in the neighborhood of their haunts. The 
condor, however, is one of the most ravenous of hiu 
species. One in a state of captivity has been known 
to eat eighteen pounds of flesh in a single day ! Bui 
that this lird can raise into the air with his claws, and 
carry off, large animals, such as deer and sheep, as 

u 


822 


MORE TALK ABOUT IKE VULTURES. 


asserted by Acosta, Desmarchais, and other Ffencli 
and Spanish writers, is altogether fabulous. 

“ The condor, unlike the vultures of most countries, 
IS not under the protection of the law. His destruc- 
tive habits among the lambs, and young lamas, and 
alpacas, render him an object to be persecuted rather 
than protected. He is, therefore, either killed or cap- 
tured whenever an opportunity offers. There can be 
but little use made either of his flesh or his feathers ; 
but as he is an object of curiosity, ho is often kept as 
a pet about the houses of the Chilians and Peruvians. 
Live ones are frequently to be seen in the markets of 
Valparaiso, and other South American cities. 

“ The natives who hunt the condor have various 
ways of capturing him. Sometimes they lie in wait 
near a carcass, and shoot the bird when it alights ; 
but it is very difflcult to kill them in this way, on 
account of their strong, thick feathers, as well as the 
tenacity of life which they possess ; it can only be 
done when the shot takes effect in a vital part. This 
method, therefore, is not much practised. A second 
plan is, to wait until the condor has gorged himself to 
repletion, when, like most other vultures, he is unable 
to fly for some time after. The hunters then gallop 
up, and lasso him from their horses, or impede hb 
flight by flinging the • dolas ’ around his legs. The 
‘ bolas ’ are thongs of leather, with leaden balls at 
each end, and these ; when adroitly th-own, twine 
Jiemselves round the shanks of the condor, and pre- 
fent his escape. A third mode is still a surer one. 
Fhe hunters build a large pen, in which they place 
« quantity of carrion. The palisades that enclose thii 


MORE TALK ABOUT THE VULTURES. 323 

►en are made so high, that, when the bird has gorged 
himself, he is unable either to rise into the air or gel 
out of the enclosure in any way ; and he is then over 
taken and captured, or beaten to death with clubs. 

“ The Indians kill the condor by stones, projected 
from slings to a great distance — a species of weapcn 
Hhich these people use with much dexterity. 

“ Condors are taken alive in traps and snares ; but 
.here is an excellent and somewhat curious method 
of capturing them alive, sometimes employed by 
the Indians of the Sierras. It is this : The huntei 
provides himself with the skin of some animal, such 
as an ox or horse, freshly taken off, and with a piece 
of the flesh adhering to it. With this he proceeds to 
some open place, where the condors, wheeling high 
in the air above, may readily see him. Having 
chosen a spot, he crouches down upon the ground, 
and draws the skin over him, with the fleshy side 
turned upward. In this situation he remains, but not 
long, until some one of the condors, with his far- 
piercing glance, espies the ensanguined object, and 
comes swooping downward. The bird, having no 
suspicion, hops boldly upon the hide, and commences 
tearing at the piece of flesh. The hunter, under- 
neath, now cautiously feels for one of its legs, and 
having assured himself of this, grasps it firmly, fold- 
ing the foot of the bird in the soft, loose flaps of the 
hide. Having already provided himself with a long 
rope, he adroitly nooses it around the ankle, and., 
taking the other end in his hand, he now appears 
from under the skin, and shows himself to his aston- 
.shed captive. Of course, during the operation of 


S24 MORE TALK AB3UT THE \ ULTURES. 

tethering,’ the condor flaps and struggles with sll hu 
might ; and, were it not for the hide which protects 
the hunter, the latter would be very apt to come off 
with the loss of an eye, or be otherwise dreadfully 
tom by the powerful Iw^ak of the bird. When the 
hunter has fairly secured his prize, he passes a leath« 
ern thong through its nostrils, and knotting it firmly, 
leads the condor off in triumph. In this same manner 
the bird is kept chained, so long as he is wanted. 
With the string through his nostrils, and fastened by the 
other end to a picket pin in the ground, the captive 
can walk about freely within the area of a circle. 
Sometimes, forgetting that he is chained, he attempts 
to fly off ; but, on reaching the end of his string, the 
sudden jerk brings him to the ground again, and he 
invariably falls upon his head ! ” 

“But how is it,” inquired Francois, “since the 
condors are hunted in this way, and so easily cap- 
tured, that they are not long since exterminated > 
They are so large that any one can see them at a 
great distance ; and they can be easily approached, 
I believe ; yet there are still great flocks of them, are 
there not .? ” 

“ You are quite right,” answered Lucien ; “ they 
are still numerous, both in the Andes of Chili and 
Peru. I think I can explain this. It is because they 
have a safe place, not only to breed, but to retire to 
whenever they feel inclined. Numerous peaks of 
the Andes, where these birds dwell, shoot up fai 
above the line of perpetual snow. Away up on these 
lummits the condor breeds, among naked rocks 
where there is no vegetation. No one ever th.nks of 


MORE TALK ABOUT THE VULTURES^ 


325 


ft?scei)ding them ; and, indeed, many of thtse summits 
are inaccessible to the human foot. ^ Not even ani- 
ma .s of any species are found there, nor birds, except 
.,he condor himself. He is the sole lord of that re- 
gion. Therefore, unlike most other creatures, these 
birds have a retreat where no enemy can come neai 
them, and where they may bring forth their young, 
and rear them in perfect security. Still more, they 
can go to rest at night without fear of being disturbed, 
unless by the crash of the falling avalanche, or the 
roar of the loud thunder that often reverberates 
tnrough these alpine regions. But the condor is not 
in the least afraid of these noises ; and he heeds them 
not, but sleeps securely, even while the red lightning 
is playing around his eyrie. 

“ Now, it is very evident that birds, or any other 
wild animals, possessing a secure place, both to bring 
forth their young or escape to in time of danger, will 
not easily be extirpated. It is because their places 
of breeding and retreat are accessible — not only to 
man, but to hosts of other enemies — that such crea- 
tures as eagles and the like are so scarce. Not so 
with the condor. His race can never become extinct 
so long as the Andes exist ; and that is likely to be 
for a good long period, I fancy.” 

“ What sort of nests do they build ? ” inquired 
ir''ran9ois. 

“ They do not build nests,” replied Lucien ; “ thev 
choose a cavity in the rocks, or in the soil around 
tliem, where they lay two large, white, oval eggs, and 
hatch them just as other vultures do. Strange to say," 
very little is known of their mode of life in theii 
28 


326 


MORE TALK ABOUT IHE VULTURES. 


elevated haunts ; but this is because the natives of thi 
Sierras rarely venture up to the high regions v/here 
the condors dwell. All they know of them is what 
they see when these great birds descend upon the 
plateaux, or inhabited mountain valleys, in search of 
food, which they do only in the mornings and even- 
ings. During midday the condor usually perches 
upon some high rock, and there goes to sleep. When 
pressed by hunger, they sometimes extend their range 
down to the hot coast lands of the Pacific Ocean ; but 
they are evidently birds that can bear cold much 
better than heat. 

“ The king vulture^''' continued Lucien, “ is the 
next species that claims our attention. He is also a 
sarcoramph, {sarcoramphus papa^) and the only one 
of that genus besides the condor. He is unlike the 
condor in many respects. He is not much of a moun- 
tain bird, but prefers the low savannas and open 
plains. He prefers heat to cold, and he is rarely met 
with outside the tropics, although he makes occasional 
visits to the peninsula of Florida and the northern 
plains of Mexico; but in these places he is only a 
rare and migratory bird. He feeds principally upon 
carrion, and dead fish that have been left by the dry- 
ing up of ponds and lakes ; but he will also kill and 
eat serpents, lizards, and small mammiferous animals 
Bartram states that in Florida he only E.ppears after the 
savannas have been on fire, when he is seen to pass 
over the ground amidst the black ashes, hunting for 
and devouring the snakes and lizards that have been 
killed by the fire. Bartram therefore infers that his 
food must consist altogether of roasted reptiles ; but 


MORE TALK ABoUT TYIE iTULTURES. 


327 


AS it would be sometimes difficult for him to procure 
R supply of these read)'- cooked, I think we maj 
safely conclude that he does not object to eating them 
raw. The fanciful ideas of these old naturalists 
are sometimes very amusing from their very ab- 
surdity. 

The king vultures live in pairs, as eagles do — 
though they are often seen in flocks, when a carca» 
or some other object has brought them together. 

“This bird has been called the ‘ painted ’ vulture 
on account of the brilliant colors upon his head and 
rxjck, which do, in fact, present the appearance of the 
most vivid painting. He derives his name of ‘ king 
vulture,’ not from the possession of any noble quali- 
ties, but from the manner in which he tyrannizes over 
the common vultures, {aura and atratus^) keeping 
them from their food until he has gorged himself 
with the choicest morsels. In this sense the name 
IS most appropriate ; as such conduct presents a 
striking analogy to that of most human kings towards 
the common people. 

“ Next to the condor in size,” continued the natu- 
ralist, “ and perhaps quite equal to him, is the great 
Californian vulture — the ‘ condor of the north.’ He 
IS classed among the purging vultures, {cathartes 
Calif ornianus.) This bird may be called black, as 
lie is nearly of that hue all over the body ; although 
some of the secondary wing feathers are white at the 
tips, and the coverts are brown. Black, however, is 
the prevailing color of the bird. His naked head 
and neck are reddish ; but he wants the crest, or comb, 
which the condors and king vultures have. On the 


32ft 


MORE TALK ABOUT THE VULTURES. 


posterioi part of his neck, long, lance-shaped fea\V 
ers form a sort of ruff, or collar, as in other birds of 
this kind. 

“ The Californian vulture derives his name from 
the country which he inhabits — the great chain of 
tlie Californian mountains — the Sierra Nevada — 
which extends, almost without interruption, thiough 
twenty degrees of latitude. That he sometimes visits 
the Rocky Mountains, and their kindred the Cordil- 
leras of the Sierra Madre, in Mexico, there can be 
little doubt. A large bird, occasionally seen among 
these mountains, and pronounced to be the condor, is 
far more likely to have been the Californian vulture. 
As far as size is concerned, this mistake might easily 
be made, for the latter bird is nearly, if not quite, as 
large as the former. A specimen of the Californian 
vulture has been measured, which proved to be four 
feet eight inches in length, and nine feet eight inches 
between the tips of the wings ! Now, this is actually 
larger than the average size of the condors ; and it 
is not improbable, therefore, that individuals of the 
Californian species may yet be found quite equal to 
the largest of the South American birds. 

“ The Californian vulture has been seen as far 
north as the thirty-ninth parallel of latitude. He is 
common in some parts of Oregon, where he makes 
his nest in the tops of the tallest trees, constructing ii 
of coarse, thorny twigs and brambles, somewhat after 
the manner of eagles. As many of the great spruce 
und pine trees of Oregon and California are three hum 
drea feet in height, and twenty feet thick at the base, 
this vulture is almost as secure among their tops as 


RIOBE TALK ABOUT THE VULTURES. 


329 


lAe condor on liis mountain summit ; but to rendeT 
nimself doubly safe, he always selects such trees 
as overhang inaccessible cliffs or rapid rivers. The 
female lays only two eggs, which are nearly jet black, 
And as large as those of a gocse ; and the young, 
like those of the condor, are for many weeks covered 
down instead of feathers. Like other vultures, 
the food of this species is carrion or dead fish ; but 
he will follow after wounded deer and other animals, 
and commence" devouring them as soon as they have 
dropped ; and a score of these birds will devour the 
carcass of a deer, or even of a horse or mule, in 
about one hour’s time, leaving nothing but a well- 
cleaned skeleton. While eating, they are strong 
enough and bold enough to keep at a distance wolves^ 
dogs, and all such animals as may attempt to share 
with them. 

“ Perhaps no bird of the vulture species is so shy 
and wary as this one. Except when he is gorged 
with eating, he will never allow the hunter to ap- 
proach within shot ; and even then, his thick, heavy 
plumage renders him most difficult to be killed. Flis 
wings are full and long, and his flight is most graceful 
and easy, not unlike that of his congener, the turkey 
buzzard. ^ 

“ I have said,” continued Lucien, “ that naturalists 
make ‘out five species of American vultures. The 
remaining two, the turkey buzzard and black vulture, 
or, as ne is sometimes called, the ‘ carrion crow,’ 
ve have already had before us ; but, I believe, there 
are more than five species on the continent of Amer- 
ica There is a bird in Guayana called the ‘ gavilii 
28 * 


\ 330 MORE TALiiC ABOUT THE VULTURES. 

cho,’ which I believe to be a vulture differing from aL 
these ; and, moreover, I do not think that the ‘ red- 
headed gallinazo ’ of South America is the same as 
the turkey buzzard of the north. He is, more prob- 
ably, a distinct species of '’athartes ; for, although he 
resembles the turkey buzzard in shape and size, his 
plumage appears to me of a purer black, and the 
skin of his head, neck, and legs of a much more 
vivid red — having an appearance as if these parts 
had been painted. I think naturalists will yet dis- 
cover that, besides the great Californian vulture, 
there are three, if not /bwr, species of the smallex 
tathurlesy 

So much for the vultures of Amerie&. 


iUrPING UPON A SKELETON. 


331 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

SUPPING UPON A SKELETON. 


Our voung travellers had now arrived upon the 
great buffalo path. Without halting, they turned theii 
horses lo the right, and followed the trail. It led 
directly towards .the north, and they had no diffi- 
culty in following it, as the prairie, for a tract of 
miles in width, was cut up by the hoofs of the ani- 
mals ; and, in some parts, where the ground was 
softer and more loamy, the surface presented the ap- 
pearance of having been turned up by the plough ! 
At other places the hard, green turf had resisted the 
hoof, but even there the grass was so beaten down 
that the trail was a perfectly plain one. Without 
troubling themselves about the direction, therefore, 
the little party rode briskly forward, full of hope 
that they would soon overtake the buffaloes. But 
their hopes were not so soon to be realized. These 
animals had gone upon their annual migration to the 
north ; and as they were keeping almost continually 
upon the run, — scarcely stopping to rest or pasture 
themselves, — it would be no easy matter to come up 
with them. At night our travellers were obliged to 
diverge from the trail, in order to get grass for then 
horses ; for, upon a belt of at least four miles in 
width, which the buffaloes had passed over, not » 
Hade of p^rass was lefr standing. 


332 


SUPPING UPON A SKELETON. 


But another want now began to be felt by the parij ^ 
►—one that filled them with serious apprehensions. 
At the end of the second day their stock of dried 
bear’s meat gave out, — not an ounce of it was left,— > 
and they lay down upon the prairie suppeiless and 
hungry. What rendered the prospect still more dis 
heartening, they were passing through a region en- 
tirely destitute of game — where no animal is ever 
seen except the buffaloes themselves, an occasional 
antelope, or the ever-present prairie wolf. It was a 
region essentially desert in its character ; although 
the dry plains were covered with a sward of the 
famous “ buffalo grass,” (sesleria dactyloides^) which 
forms the favorite pasture of these wild cattle. As 
for the antelopes, they love these desert solitudes ; as 
;heir free, open range affords them an opportunity, 
from their superior fle(^ness, of escaping from every 
enemy. But in these parts they are more than usually 
shy ; and, although several of them were seen on 
the way, our hunters vainly endeavored to approach 
within shooting distance of them. Wolves they could 
have shot ; but they were not as yet prepared to sat- 
isfy their hunger upon the flesh of these filthy, fox- 
like creatures. That large troops of wolves had 
gone forward, hanging after the great herd, was evi- 
dent. Every now and then our hunters saw proof of 
this, in the clean-picked skeletons of buffaloes that 
lay along the path. These they knew were such as 
had got disabled and separated from the drove . for 
numerous accidents of this kind — owing to the bu’ls 
goring one another, or being enfeebled by age and 
disease — take place during the migraticn of the vast 


SUPIZNG rPON A SKELEION. 


332 


i^rds. Were it not so, the wolves would never think 
of following them as they do ; for a buffalo in good 
health can scatter a whole pack of these cowardly 
skulking jackals. But the average accMents which 
occur when such numbers of buffaloes are together, — 
the prospect of old ones, weak and weary, being sep" 
orated from their companions, — of numbers gelting 
iKiied upon the banks of some muddy river, or 
drc wned in crossing it, — of cows heavy with calf 
falling behind, or with calves already on the hoof, 
loitering for the purpose of suckling them, — the 
prospect of these chances, combined with the still 
more enticing hope that the buffaloes will be attacked 
by a party of Indian hunters, often carries a pack of 
wolves for hundreds of miles across the prairie, on 
the heels of a great herd. In fact, some of these 
wolves, both of tne white and prairie species, seem to 
have no fixed place of abode ; but hang upon the 
skirts of the buffalo “ gangs” throughout all their 
extended migrations. 

I have said that, upon the second night after leav- 
ing the butte, our travellers went to sleep supperless. 
On the third day, they began to feel the cravings of 
hunger in good earnest. Neither beast nor bird 
appeared in sight upon the wild, desert plains that 
stretched inimitably around them. About noon, as 
they were riding through a thicket of the wild sage, 
(artemisia tridentata^) a brace of those singular 
birds, sage cocks or prairie grouse, (fetrao uropliasi 
072 MS,) the largest of all the grouse family, whirred 
up before the heads of their horses. Fran9ois, with 
his ever-inady gun, fired at them ; but they were too 


83^1 


SUPPING UPON A SkELETON. 


distan Jor the shot ; and the next moment both Jis* 
appeared over the swells of the prairie. The sight 
only tantalized the unsuccessful hunters, and added 
to the hungry craving of appetites already sharp 
almost beyond endurance. They felt that there was 
no chance of getting any thing to eat before they 
should come up with the buffaloes. That was theix 
only hope ; and they spurred their horses afresh, and 
rode on as fast as the animals could travel. 

Towards night their hunger had increased to <t 
painful degree ; and the eyes of all wandered occa • 
sionally upon Jeannette and the dog Marengo. They 
began to contemplate the necessity of sacrificing one 
01 other of these animals. It would be a sad alter- 
native, as both the mule and the dog were looked 
upon more in the light of companions than slaves. 
Both had done good service during the expedition. 
But for Marengo Fran5ois might never have been 
found ; and Jeannette, in addition to having satisfac- 
torily accomplished the duty assigned to her, had 
saved them from an encounter with one of the cougars. 
But all these services must now be forgotten, when 
starvation was the alternative ; and our adventurers 
began to talk seriously about which of these two 
faithful servants should be made the first victim. 
Neither was fat. Jeannette had never been so in all 
her life, — at least so long as her present owners had 
been acquainted with her, — and Marengo had grown 
gaunt and bony upon this lengthened expedition. 
Jeannette could not be otherwise than tough, and 
Marengo looked any thing bat tender. So far as that 
was concerned, it might be a toss-up which of them 
was first put to the knife ” 


SUPPING UPON A SKELETON. 33fl 

But Other considerations had their weight with the 
boys. Basi. disliked parting with his hound, that foi 
many years had been a great favorite, and the dog 
was endeared to all from late circumstances. His 
conduct at the tune when Fran9ois was lost, — his 
usefulness as a sentinel at many a lonely camp fire, — 
and his valuable services rendered upon other occa- 
sions, had fixed him firmly in the affections of hii 
young masters ; and they would have endured hunger 
to the utmost extremity rather than sacrifice him. 
Jeannette, on the other hand, was but a mule — a 
selfish, wicked, kicking mule. This was true ; but 
to them she had been a useful animal, and would not 
have kicked any one of them, although she would 
have kicked all the world besides. Still the feeling 
with which Jea,nnette was regarded was more a feeling 
of gratitude than of love. It was far different from 
the sentiment held towards Marengo. 

With these considerations passing through the minds 
of our hungry hunters, it is easy to guess the result 
of their deliberations. The sentence was at length 
pronounced, — a unanimous one , — Jeannette must die ! 

Poor old Jeannette ! She little knew what they 
were talking about. She little thought that her days 
were about being numbered — that the time was nigh 
when she should carry a pack no more. She little 
expected that she was about to kick up her heela 
upon the prairie for the last time, — that, in a few 
hours her lifeblood would be let forth, — and her old 
ribs be roasting and sputtering over a camp fire ! 

Yea, it was decreed that Jeannette should die ! but 
when and where this terrible tragedy was to taJrt 


SUPPING UPON A SrELETON. 


3Sil 


place was not yet determined uoon, Ai tl oir first 
halting-place, of course ; but where that to be ? 
for, after having resolved upon the death of Jeannette, 
they travelled on for miles without arriving at any 
place where it would be possible to halt for the niglu ! 
No water appeared, and without water they could not 
with safety encamp. Early in the afternoon they^ 
had entered upon a strange tract, over which the 
road of the buffaloes led them. It was a part of the 
prairie — a series of low hills composed of pure 
gypsum. These extended around them, as far as 
our travellers could see, presenting on all sides a 
picture of alabaster whiteness. Neither plant, nor 
tree, nor any sign of vegetable life relieved the mo- 
notonous uniformity of the landscape. Turn to what 
side they might, their eyes were met by the limeliko 
surface of hill and dale, dazzling the sight with it" 
milky whiteness. The sun, reflected upward, pierce*^ 
their bodies, and parched them with thirst. Thej 
breathed a hot atmosphere filled with gypsum dust 
that by the trampling of the buffalo herd had beet 
reduced to an impalpable powder, and floated abou* 
suspended in the air. This added to the agonv 
of their thirst ; and it was difficult for them to teh 
whether they suffered most from the want of food oi 
the want of water ! 

How far might this singular tract extend ? They 
could form no conjecture as to the distance. Lucien 
had heard that such formations sometimes stretched 
for many miles. If so, they might never be able to 
cross it, — thirsty and exhausted as both they and the 
animals were, — for, eager to come up with the 


STTPPING UPON A SEE. ETON. 

Duffalo, they had rested but very little during ihe 
previous days. They began to labor under serious 
apprehensions. The appetite of thirst became stronger 
than that of hunger — its cravings more difficult to 
be endured. 

Guided by tbe buffalo tracks, they rode gloomily 
on, in the midst of a white cloud that enveloped them 
throughout all that fearful journey. They had no 
difficulty in following the trail. The heavy dust 
showed where the drove had passed ; and every here 
and there great circular hollows showed where the 
buffaloes had “ wallowed.” The hope that these 
animals, guided by their usual instincts, had gone 
m the direction of water, to some degree sustained 
our travellers in their onward struggle. 

The shades of evening were closing over the earth, 
and the alabaster hills were assuming an ashy blue 
color, when the little cavalcade emerged from the 
dusty ravines of gypsum, and once more trod the 
green prairie. The country before them was still 
rolling, but they kept on along the well-marked trail 
— their animals stepping more freely, as if inspired 
with new hope at the change which had taken place 
upon the surface. There was something in the 
appearance of the landscape ahead that led to the 
belief that water was not far distant ; and sure enough 
it was not ; for, on mounting the crest of a prairie 
swell, over which ran the buffalo trail, a small rivulet 
was espied in the glen below. At the sight, Jeannette 
as well as the three horses, pricked up their ears- 
and making an effort to trot, were soon at the bottom 
of the hill, and up to their knees in the water. 

29 


V 


SUPPING UPON A SKELETON. 


It was fortunate for them that it proved a fiesh 
water stream. Had it been a salt one, — and such are 
very common in the neighborhood of these gypsum 
formations, — they could never have gone farther 
They would all have perished upon its banks. 

But it was fresh water, cool and fresh, — and ou* 
travellers first drank of it, and then bathed themselves 
in its flood, until they had washed their bodies free 
from the annoying gypsum dust. After ^this they set 
about making some arrangements for their nighf 
bivouac. 

The copious draughts of water which all of them 
had taken in some measure relieved them from 
the painful sensations of hunger they had expe- 
rienced ; and they began to consider whether they 
might not be able to give Jeannette a respite — at 
least until the morning. While deliberating upon this, 
they noticed that Marengo had strayed away from 
them. They looked around, wondering what had 
become of him, or where he could have gone. They 
espied the hound at some distance up the stream, and 
apparently engaged with some object upon the bank. 
They all ran towards him. On arriving near the 
spot, they perceived that it was the skeleton of a. large 
buffalo with which the dog was engaged. The pocr 
brute, hungry as he was, could do but little else than 
lick it; for the wolves had not left as much meat 
upon it as would have filled the smallest of his teeth ! 
Even the pieces; of tom skin that lay around had 
been chewed dry by these ravenous animals; and the 
bones appeared as free from flesh as if they had been 
•craped by a knife. Had an anatomist been ordered 


SUPPING UPON 


SKELETON. 


JO prepare tlie skeleton for a museum, he could not 
have cleaned it more effectually. 

It was not very cheering to contemplate this useless 
skeleton ; and the boys were about returning to their 
camping-place, when the idea occurred to Lucien 
that the bones might at least yield a soup. He of 
course communicated this idea to the others, and it 
was at once agreed that they should boil them, and 
try. It was quite a happy thought. No doubt the 
bones, which were fresh, and not yet diy, would 
make an excellent soup ; and all three at once set 
about preparing to cook it. Fran9ois gathered sage 
bushes to kindle a fire with, while Basil got hold of 
Lucien’s little hatchet, and set to work to separate 
the ribs and joints of the skeleton. Lucien, seeing 
that there were several kinds of plants growing on 
the margin of the rivulet, went down to examine 
them, in hopes that he might find the wild onion 
or the prairie turnip among them, or perhaps some 
other root or vegetable that might help to enrich their 
pottage. 

While all three were engaged in their separate 
duties, a loud exclamation from Basil drew the atten- 
tion of his brothers. It was a shout of joy, followed 
by a wild laugh, like the laugh of a maniac ! 

Francois and Lucien looked up in affright, — think- 
ing that something disagreeable had happened, — foi 
they could not understand why Basil should be laugh- 
ing so loudly at such a time, and under such gloomy 
circumstances. 

As they looked at him he still continued to lauglu 
waving the hatchet around his head as if in triumph 


840 


SUPPING UPON A SKELETON. 


“ Come here, brothers ! ” shouted he ; “ come here . 
Ha ! ha ! ha ! Here’s a supper for thi:ee hungry in 
dividuals ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! What shallow fellows we 
are, to be sure ! Why, we are as stupid as the 
donkey that preferred eating the hay with the tread 
and butter beside him. Look here ! and here ! and 
there ! There’s a supper for you. Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” 

Lucien and Fran9ois had now arrived upon tlie 
ground ; and seeing Basil point to the great joints of 
the buffalo, and turn them over and over, at once 
understood the cause of his mirth. These joints were 
full of marrow ! 

“ Pounds of it,” continued Basil ; “ the very titbits 
of the buffalo — enough to make suppers for a dozen 
of us ; and yet we were going to sleep supperless, or 
the next thing to it — going to starve in the midst of 
plenty ! And we have been travelling among such 
treasures for three days past ! Why, we deserve to 
starve for being so simple. But come, brothers ! help 
me to carry these great joints to the fire — Pll show 
you how to cook a supper.” 

There are eight miafrow bones in the buffalo, con- 
taining several pounds of this substance. As Basil 
had heard from the old hunters, it is esteemed the 
most delicious part of the animal, and is rarely left 
behind when a buffalo has been killed. The best 
metliad of preparing it is by simply roasting it in the 
bene ; although the Indians and trappers often eat it 
raw. The stomachs of our young hunters were not 
strong enough for this ; and a couple of the shank 
bones were thrown into the fire, and covered ove? 
with r«wl cinders. 


UrON A SKELETON. 3-1 1 

In due lime che indm)w was supposed to be suf* 
ficientl) haked ; and the bones, having been cracked 
by Lucien’s hatchet, yielded up their savory store, 
which all three ate with a great relish. A cup of 
cool water washed it down ; and around the camp fire 
of the boy hunters thirst and hunger were now con^ 
templated only as things of the past. Jeannette was 
respited without one dissentient voice. 

Our adventurers were surrounded once more with 
the cheerful atmosphere of hope. There was still 
enough of marrow in the remaining bones to last 
them for two days at the least ; for this marrow is a 
most nourishing food. Moreover, by following the 
buffalo trail, they would be likely to fall in with other 
skeletons of these animals ; and all apprehensions on 
the score of food now vanished from their minds. 
Another fact, which the skeleton of the buffalo revealed 
to them, added to their joyful anticipations. They had 
observed, on first going up to it, that the hones were still 
fresh ! The wolves had not been long gone from it 
It could not have been a long time killed. All this 
showed that the buffaloes themselves had but very 
recently passed over the ground, and could not be far 
distant. These were cheering thoughts, and for a 
while the young hunters sat around the sage fire, 
revolving them in their minds, and conversing upon 
them. Then, havh.g offered thanks to that Being 
who had so many times miraculously preserved them, 
they rolled themselves in their blankets, and, nolwitb 
itanding a heavy shower of rain that fell, once mor^ 
found the solace of a good night’s sleep. 

29 * 


342 


THE BATTLE OF THE BULLS. 


CHAPTER XXXJV. 

THE BATTLE OF THE BULLS. 

Next morning the boy hunters were up anci stining 
at the “peep of day.” They felt refreshed and 
cheerful. So did their animals, for the grass was 
good. Jeannette was frisking about on her trail rope, 
and endeavoring to reach “ Le Chat,” whom she 
would have kicked and bitten to a certainty, but 
that the lasso tether restrained her. Jeannette little 
dreamed how near she had been to her last kick. 
Had she known that, it is probable she would have 
carried herself with more sobriety, not knowing but 
that a similar necessity might occur again. But 
Jeannette knew nothing of it ; and, having eaten well 
and drunk plentifully, she was as frisky as a kitten. 

A fire was kindled, and a “ fresh marrow bone ” 
steamed and sputtered among the blazing branches 
of the sage. This was soon drawn forth again, 
cracked, and its rich contents rifled and eaten. The 
remaining joints were packed upon Jeannette, the 
horses were saddled, the hunters leaped into their 
•eats, and rode joyfully off upon the trail. 

The country over which they now travelled war 
wh?'.t is termed a “ rolling prairie ; ” that is, a coun- 
try without trees, but, nevertheless, far from being 
level. The prairie is not always a level plain^ ai 


THE BATTLE OF : HE BULLS. 


343 


Bome people imagine. On the contrary, it is often 
of very uneA’^on surface, containing high hills and 
deep vallevs. Tlie word “ prairie ” means, properly, 
an open, level country, though it is not necessary 
that it should be a dead horizontal level, to entitle 
it to the name. It may contain hills, valleys, and 
long ridges. It is not necessary, either, that it should 
6e entirely destitute of trees ; for there are the 
“ timber prairies,” where trees grow in “ mottes ” or 
groves, sometimes termed islands, from their resem 
blance to wooded islands in the sea. The “ prairie ” 
is a term used to distinguish those vast meadow-like 
tracts of the earth’s surface from the forest, the 
mountain, and the ocean. The prairies themselves 
are distinguished by specific names, according to 
what covers their surface. We have seen that there 
are “ timber prairies ” and “ flower prairies.” The 
latter are usually denominated “ weed prairies ” by 
the rude hunters who' roam over them. The vast 
green meadows covered with “ buffalo ” grass, or 
“ gramma,” or “ mezquite ” grass, are termed “ grass 
;’>rairies.” The tracts of salt efflorescence — oftei 
fifty miles long and nearly as wide — are called “ salt 
prairies ; ” and a somewhat similar kind, where 
soda covers the surface, are named “ soda prairies.” 
There are vast desert plains where no vegetation ap- 
pears, save the wild sage bushes, (artemisia.) These 
are the “ sage prairies,” hundreds of miles ©f which 
exist in the central parts of the North American con- 
tinent. There are prairitis of sand, and “ rock prai- 
ries,” where the “ cut rock ” and pebble deposits 
^over the arid plains ; and still another variety, calleJ 


344 


THE BATTLE OF THE BULLS. 


the “ hog- wallow prairies,” where the surface for milea 
exhibits a rough appearance, as if it had been at some 
remote period turned over or “ rooted ” by hogs. 

Most of these names have been given by the trap- 
pers — the true pioneers of this wild region. Who 
have an equal right to bestow them ? Scientific men 
may explore it — topographical officers may travel 
over it in safety with a troop at their heels — they 
may proclaim themselves the discoverers of the passes 
and the plains, the mountains and the rivers, the fauna 
and the flora — on their maps they may give them 
the names, first of themselves, then of their patrorii^, 
then of their friends, and, lastly, of their favorite dogs 
and horses. They may call stupendous mountains 
and grand rivers by the names of Smith and Jones, 
of Fremont and Stansbury ; but men who think justly, 
and even the rude but wronged trappers themselves, 
will laugh to scorn such scientific coxcombry. 

I honor the names which the trappers have given 
to the features of that far land ; many of which, like 
the Indian nomenclature, are the expressions of nature 
itself ; and not a few of them have been baptized by 
the blood of these brave pioneers. 

We have said that our adventurers now travelled 
upon a “ rolling prairie.” The surface exhibited vast 
ridges with hollows between. Did you ever see the 
ocean after a storm ? Do you know what a “ ground 
swell ” is ? — when the sea is heaving up in great 
smooth ridges, without crest or foam, and deep 
troughs between — when the tempest has ceased to 
howl and the winds to blow, yet still so uneven re- 
mains the surface of the mighty deep, still so danger 


THE BATTLE OF THE BLLLS. 345 

ous arc these smooth waves, that ships rock and 
.tumble about, and sometimes lose their masts, or are 
flung upon their beam ends I That is what the sailors 
call a “ swell.” Now, if you could imagine one of 
these billowy seas to be suddenly arrested in its mo- 
tion, and the water transformed to solid earth, and 
covered with a greensward, you wou.d have some- 
thing not unlike a “ rolling prairie.” Some think 
that, when these prairies were formed, some such 
rolling motion actually existed, by means of an earth- 
quake, and that all at once the ground ceased its 
undulations, and stood still ! It is an interesting 
speculation for the learned geologist. 

The ridges of the prairie upon which our adven- 
turers were journeying extended from east to west, 
and, of course, the valleys trended in the same direc- 
tion. The route was northward ; the path, therefore, 
which the travellers pursued was a continued succes- 
sion of ups and downs. 

Eagerly looking before them, anxiously scanning 
the valleys or troughs of the prairie as they sur- 
mounted each new swell, they rode onward full of 
hope that they would soon come in sight of the bufla- 
loes. But they were not prepared for the sight which 
was so soon to greet their eyes — a sight which one 
wpuld have supposed would have filled them with joy, 
but which, on the contrary, had the effect of inspiring 
them with a feeling akin to terror. 

They had just climbed one of the ridges that gave 
them a view of the valley beyond. It was a small, 
deep valley, of nearly a circular form, and covered 
with a green turf. Near one side of it was a spring, 


346 


THE BATTLE OF THE BULLS. 


the waters of which, issuing forth, ran neaily iroiiti-v 
the circumference of the va.ley, and then escaped 
through one of the troughs of the prairie. The 
course of this rivulet could be traced by the low 
trees - cottonwoods and willows — that fringed its 
banks , so that the central part of the valley pre- 
sented the appearance of a small circular meadow 
almost surrounded by a grove. 

It was in this meadow that a spectacle was offered 
to the eyes of our adventurers, which caused them to 
rein suddenly up, and sit gazing down upon it with 
singular emotions. The spectacle was that of a num- 
ber of animals engaged in what appeared to be a 
mixed and terrible combat ! There was not over a 
dozen of them in all, but they were large animals, 
of fierfce aspect and furious bearing ; and so desper- 
ately were they assailing one another, that the green 
turf around them was torn and furrowed by their 
jioofs. It was in the middle of the meadow that this 
indiscriminate contest was carried on, — in the open 
ground, — and a finer spot for such an exhibition they 
could hardly have chosen, had they wished to accom- 
modate a large number of spectators. The valley 
itself, with the ridges that encircled it, was not unlike 
one of the great Spanish amphitheatres, where bull 
fights are carried on ; while the smooth, level surface 
of the meadow represented the arena. The combat- 
ants, however, were engaged in no mock encounter, 
to gratify the curiosity of an idle crowd ; nor did 
they apprehend that there were spectators j)resent. 

The contest in which they were engaged was a recfc. 
fight ; and their angry roars, their hurried rushing 


THE BATTLE OF THE BULLS. 


341 


backwards and forwards, and the loud crscKing of 
their skulls as they came together, proved them to 
be in earnest. 

That the animals were buffaloes was apparent at 
first sight. Their great bulk, the lion-like form of 
their bodies, but above all, their bellowing, that re 
sembled the “ routing ” of enraged bulls, convinced 
our young hunters that they could be no other than 
buffaloes — and buffaloes they were — a “ gang ” of 
old buffalo bulls engaged in one of their terrible 
tournaments. 

I have said that our hunters, on first seeing them, 
were influenced by feelings of terror. But why so ? 
What was there in the appearance of a herd of buf- 
faloes to frighten them, since that was the very thing 
they had so long been in search of.? Was it the 
angry attitudes of the animals, or their loud roaring ? 
Nothing of the sort ? No. That was not what had 
inspired them with fear, or, as I should rather term it, 
with awe. No. The reason was very different in- 
ieed. It was not because they were buffaloes, or 
because they were engaged in a fierce battle — it 
was because they were white buffaloes ! 

You will again ask why this should have been a 
cause of terror. Was a white buffalo not the very 
object of the expedition .? Should the sight of one not 
have produced rather than /ear ? So the sight of 
one would ; but it was the sight of so many — the 
mysterious spectacle of nearly a dozen of these 
animals together — a thing unparalleled, unheard of 
it was this that inspired our adventurers with awe. 

H was some time before any of the three could 


848 


THE BATTLE OF THE BULLS. 


find wol Is to express their astonishment. Tliey sal 
in silence, gazing down into the valley. They cculd 
nardly believe the evidence of their eyes. With the 
palms ^of their hands they shaded them from the sun 
and gazed still a longer while. They saw, at length, 
theie could be no deception. Buffaloes the animala 
were, and lohite ones too ! 

They were not all of a uniform white, though 
most of them were. A few were darker about the 
heads and legs, with broad white flakes upon their 
sides, giving them a mottled appearance. The gen- 
eral color, however, was whitish ; and, strange to 
say, there was not a black or brown one in the herd ! 
— not one of the well-known color that buffaloes 
usually are ! It was this that rendered them such a 
mysterious band in the eyes of our adventurers. 

The latter, however, soon got over their surprise. 
There could be no doubt that they had fallen in with 
a herd of white buffaloes. Perhaps, thought they, 
there is, after all, nothing so strange in .such a num- 
ber of them being together. Perhaps the individuals 
of that color, so rarely met with, usually associate 
together in this way, and keep apart from the black 
ones. What better fortune could have happened 
them then .? If they could only succeed in killing 
one of these creatures, it would be all that they could 
wish for, and all they wanted. The object of their 
expedition would then be accomplished, and nothing 
would remain but to turn their horses’ heads, and 
take the shortest route homeward. With these ideas 
passing through their minds, they at once set about 
consiiering how they might kill oi capture one or 
more of the herd. 


THE BATTLE OF THE BULLS. 


349 


They were not slow to decide upon a plan. The 
buffaloes, still continuing their angry conflict, had not 
noticed them as yet, nor were they likely to do so. 
The hunters resolved, therefore, that two of them 
should remain on horseback, — so as to take the ani* 
mals upon the “run,” — while the third was to eij- 
deavor to “ approach ” them on foot, and get a sure 
shot before they should start off, taking his chance of 
joining in the chase afterwards. The latter duty was 
assigned to Basil ; who, after dismounting from his 
horse, and looking to his trusty rifle, commenced 
creeping down into the valley. Lucien and Fran9ois 
— still in their saddles — remained upon the ridge. 

Basil reached the grove of willows without being 
observed ; and, stealing silently through, found him- 
self within less than fifty paces of several of the herd. 
They were still rushing to and fro, raising the dust in 
clouds, roaring furiously, parting from each other, 
and then meeting head to head with such force, that 
each time their skulls cracked as though both had 
been broken by the terrible concussion. The hunter 
waited until one of the largest, and apparently the 
whitest of them, came very near , and then, taking 
aim behind the fore shoulder, fired. The huge ani- 
mal was seen to tumble over ; while the others, hear- 
ing the shot, or scenting the presence of an enemy, 
immediately left off their contest, and, breaking 
through the willows, scrambled up the ridge towards 
the open prairie. 

Without waiting to look after the one that he had 
fired at, Basil ran towards his horse, which, at his 
call, was already galloping to meet him. Frangow 
30 


350 


THE BATTLE OF THE BULLS. 


and Lucien \\ere now in pursuit of the flj ing herd 
and Basil, hastily mounting, followed after. In a fe\f 
minutes the three were side by side with the buffa* 
ioes ; and then could be heard the cracking of guna 
and pistols, until the weapons of all were empty ; 
but, although not a shot had missed hitting the ani- 
mals, the latter continued to gallop on, as though 
none of them had been hurt ! Before the hunters 
could reload, they had the mortification to see the 
whole band far off upon the prairie, and running as 
briskly as ever ! 

Seeing ttiat there would be no chance to come up 
with them again, they all turned their horses, 'and 
commenced riding back to make sure of the one 
which Basil had knocked over by his first shot. He 
was still in the valley, they knew, and as they had all 
seen him lying prostrate, they felt certain they had 
secured one at least, and that was all they wanted. 

On reaching the ridge that overlooked the valley, 
what was their surprise to see the buffalo once more 
upon his feet, and surrounded by a score of snapping, 
snarling wolves ! These were rushing upon him from 
all sides at once ; while the wounded bull was turn- 
ing briskly about, and endeavoring tc keep them at 
bay with his horns. Some of the wolves were seen 
stretched out on the ground, — to all appearance dead, 
— while their companions kept up the attack with 
unrelenting fury. The eyes of the buffalo flashed 
fire, as, wheeling round and round, he endeavored to 
&eep his assailants in front of him. 

It was evident, however, that the wolves were 
gaining upon him, and, had they been left to them 


THE BATTLE Of THE BULLS. 


351 


lel Aes, would soon have brought him down. Oui 
hunters, at first, thought of allowing them to accom- 
{ilish this feat ; when all at once it occured to them 
that, if they did so, the skin might he spoiled ! The 
wolves with their fierce teeth would tear it to pieces. 
This thought decided them upon a different plan , 
and all three galloped down the ridge and out into 
the meadow, surrounding the buffalo as they came 
up. The wolves scattered in every direction ; and 
the great bull, now perceiving his new enemies, com- 
menced rushing from one to the other, endeavoring 
to carry their horses upon his horns. It was with 
great difficulty that they' could keep out of his reach , 
but at length another well-directed shot from Basil’s 
rifle entered the heart of the animal ; and, after bal- 
ancing himself upon his spread limbs, and rocking 
a while from side to side, the huge creature fell for- 
ward upon his knees, and lay motionless, with a stream 
of blood pouring from his lips. In a few moments he 
was dead ! 

Having made sure of this, our hunters flung them- 
selves from their horses, drew their skinning knives, 
and made up to the noble quarry. You may fancy 
their astonishment, as well as chagrin, when, upon 
getting close to the animal, they discovered that what 
they had taken for a white buffalo was no white buf- 
falo, after all, but a hlack one painted white ! Neither 
more nor less. The thing was too plain. The lime- 
like coating which covered the huge animal all over 
was now apparent ; and as they passed their hands 
through the long hair, a white substance, resembling 
pulverized chalk, came off upon their fingers ! 


352 


THE BATTLE OF THE BULLS. 


What could have caused the strange phenomenon 
they asked one another. But the explanation was 
soon found. They remembered the gypsum hills 
over which they had ridden on the preceding day. 
They remembered, too, that it had rained in the 
night. The buffaloes had been among these hills^ 
and, according to their usual habit, had rolled and 
wallowed about in the wetted dust heaps. The white, 
alabaster-like mud had adhered to their skins — thus 
giving them the color which had so much deceived 
and mystified our hunters. 

‘‘ Well,” exclaimed Basil, giving a kick to the 
body of the dead bull, “ even black buffalo is not so 
bad, after all. At the worst we shall have fresh meat 
for dinner ; and with that let us console ourselves for 
the disappointment.” 

So saying, Basil made signs to his brothers to 
assist ; aci ail three set about prep^,. ’/ ^ akin tha 
naims). 


THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. 


353 


- CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. 

Thai day our hunters dined, for the first tini’e, on 
fresh buffalo beef. After dinner they were not idle, 
but spent the remainder of the evening in drying a 
portion of the meat over a fire. They had resolved 
to encamp on the spot for the night, and follow up the 
trail in the morning. They therefore busied them* 
selves, until a late hour, in preparing as much broiled 
buffalo meat as would last them for several days. 

It was near midnight before they thought of retir- 
ing to rest. As they had done upon like occasions 
before, it was agreed that one should keep watch — 
so as to keep off the wolves from the meat — while 
the other two slept. 

Their camp was in the open ground, near the spot 
where the buffalo had been skinned. At a little dis- 
tance off, their animals were browsing upon the grass. 
The wolves were in great force — both prairie wolves 
and those of the large gray species. The scent of 
the broiling meat had attracted them from afar ; and 
throughout the night they kept up a continuous hovel- 
ing, trotting all over the meadow around the camp. 

Fran 9 ois kept the first watch, and Lucien the 
second ; Basil’s turn came next, and it was to extend 
till daybreak, when all were to be aroused — so that 
80 * w 


354 


THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. 


they might pack up at a very early hour, and coft 
tinue the journey. They did not wish to lose a 
moment more than was necessary — as they knew 
that every hour the migrating herd would be gaining 
upon them, and thus prolong the pursuit. 

Basil’s watch was a long one ; and, having sat up 
BO late, he felt sleepy. He was therefore in no very 
friendly humor with the wolves, upon whose ac- 
count he was thus compelled to keep awake. Every 
now and then, as he saw them sneaking about in the 
darkness, he could not help muttering an angry ejac- 
ulation ; and he had made up his mind, as soon as 
morning- came, to empty his gun at one of the pack 
by way of satisfying his feelings. 

After a spell of watching that lasted nearly three 
hours, he perceived the first streaks of dawn in the 
east. 

“ By the time we get breakfast cooked,” thought 
Basil, “ there will be light enough to follow the trail ; 
BO I’ll rouse Frank and Luce ; and, by way of a 
change, I’ll give them a reveille with my rifle. Let 
me pick out the largest of these sneaking wolves ; 
I’ll put one of them at least from keeping any body 
awake hereafter, I guess.” 

Basil, as he reflected thus, raised himself upon his 
knees, and looked around to select a victim. Strange 
to say, the wolves, as if they had guessed his inten- 
tion, had scattered away from the neighborhood of 
tile fire, though several could still be seen stealing 
along the edge of the willows. Basil chose oae of 
these, which appeared in the dim light to be a large 
gray one ; and, levelling his piece, fired at it. Aa 


THte 'MYSTJiKlOUS WALLET. 


355 


ne was not very anxious whether he killed the animal 
or not, he fired carelessly. 

Following the shot there was heard a loud scream, 
that was answered by fifty others, from all sides of 
the valley. It awoke the sleeping hunters, who, along 
with Basil, sprang to their feet. It was not the scream 
of wolves they had heard, but a cry of far different 
import. It was the yell of human voices — the war 
cry of Indians ! 

All three stood speechless with terror ; but even 
could they have spoken, there was scarcely time 
allowed them to have uttered a word ; for almost 
simu taneously with the yells there was a rushing 
forward of dark forms ; and the next moment fifty 
tall savages were around them. Basil, who had been 
farthest out from the fire, was knocked senseless by a 
blow ; while Lucien and Fran9ois, who did not think 
of using their guns, were seized by the brawny arms 
of the Indiana, and held fast. It was fortunate for 
them that they did not make any resistance, else the 
savages would. have killed all three upon the spot. 
As it was, even, they seemed for a while undetermined 
whether to do so or not — as it was one of their 
number that Basil had mistaken for a wolf, and the 
shot had wounded the Indian, which of course exas- 
perated them greatly. Perceiving, however, the small 
force of the party, and that the boy^ made no further 
resistance, they gave up the idea of killing them on 
the spot, but bound the arms of all three behind their 
backs ; and then, after having mounted them on theii 
- horses, and gathered up their guns and blankets, led 
thein oiit of the valley. At a short distance off, the 


356 


THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. 


tndians reached a spot where their own hoivjs wer« 
Jed. Here they halted for a moment, — until each 
had got into his saddle, — and then the whole party 
prisoners and all, set off at a brisk trot over the 
prairie. 

In about an hour they arrived at a large encamp- 
ment upon the bank of a broad, shallow river. There 
were nearly a hundred lodges standing upon the 
plain ; and the ground was littered with buffalo horns 
and hides, while vast quantities of the flesh of these 
animals were hanging from poles in front of every 
lodge. There were fires, and camp kettles, and dogs, 
and Indian ponies, and women and children— all 
mixed up together, or moving to and fro among the 
tents. 

In front of the encampment, and near the bank of 
the stream, the prisoners were thrown upon the 
ground. Their captors left them ; but they were at 
once surrounded by a crowd of yelling squaws and 
children. These at first regarded them only with 
curiosity ; but as soon as they heard that one of the 
Indians had been wounded, they uttered the most 
hideous and piercing cries, and approached their 
captives with threatening looks and gestures. They 
commenced their cowardly torture by pulling the ears 
and hair of the boys, and sticking arrow-points into 
their arms and shoulders ; and then, by way of having 
a little fun, several of the squaws seized hold of, and 
dragged the three prisoners out into the middle of the 
stream. Here they ducked them, keeping their 
heads for a long time under water, all the while 
yelling and laughing like so many demons. The 


THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. SST 

f 

uoo/ captives for a while believed that these women 
were about to drown them, and tied as they were, 
Jiey could make no effort to save themselves. This, 
however, was not the intention of the squaws ; 4hev 
were only disposed to have as much fun out of them 
as possible. After they had got tired of this amuse- 
ment, they dragged the boys back to the bank again, 
and flung them dripping upon the grass. 

But what was Basil doing all this time ? Did he 
not possess a charm about him that would have put an 
end to all this torturing treatment, and have made the 
Indians friends, instead of such cruel enemies ? Ah, 
poor Basil ! He had suffered worse than any of the 
three. I shall tell you how it was with him. 

At their capture, Basil had been stunned by the 
blow of a tomahawk. He had been knocked quite 
senseless ; and although he recovered himself so fai 
as to be able to ride to the Indian camp, it was noi 
until after the ducking he received in the cold river 
that he fairly came to himself. As soon as he did so, 
he bethought himself of that which he carried under 
the breast of his hunting shirt. In fact his brothers 
had been reminding him of it eveiy moment, anxiously 
entreating him to make use of a secret of which 
neither of them fully understood the nature. But up 
to this time, Basil, bewildered by the blow, was 
scarcely conscious of what he did. He had now 
recovered himself, and was making every effort to 
get at the string, and draw the embroidered pouch 
from his breast ; but his hands were tied behind him, 
and he could not use them ! He essayed to reach it 
with his mouth, but all his efforts were in vain. He 


558 


' THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. 


Lhen turned towards his brothers, so tliat they mig)» 
tftretch forward, and draw out the string with the j 
teeth. They were no longer near him ! The squawa 
had dragged them to some distance off ; and like 
himself, their ankles were tied together, and they 
could not move from the spot where they had been 
placed. 

Basil saw all this with a feeling of consternation ; 
for, judging from the cruel treatment to which they 
had been submitted, and from the excited and exas- 
perated manner of the Indians, he began to fear the 
worst, and to doubt whether the charm he carried 
might, after all, avail them. He used every effort to 
give it a trial. Failing to reach it, he made signs to 
the squaws around him, nodding with his head, and 
casting his eyes downward towards his breast. These 
however, did not understand his meaning ; and only 
laughed at what appeared to them a somewhat comic 
pantomime. 

During the continuance of this scene, the Indian 
men stood apart, conversing together, and evidently 
deliberating what they should do with their prisoners. 
The manner of some of them was angry and excited. 
They talked loudly, and gesticulated with violence, 
occasionally pointing to a spot of level ground in 
front of the camp. The ^captives could see that 
among these loud talkers was the man whom Basil 
had wounded, as he carried his arm in a bandage. 
He was an ill-favored, ferocious-looking savage ; and 
the boys, although they knew not a word that was 
uttered, could tell by his manner that he was speaking 
against them. To their consternation, they at length 


THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. 


359 


Bfiw thpt ho and his party had earned their point, and 
all the others appeared to acquiesce. What could 
their decision have been ? Were they going to murder 
them ? Agonized with these terrible apprehensions, 
the boys watched every action of the Indians with 
the keenest solicitude. 

All at once each one of the savages was seen to 
arm himself with a bow ; while two of their number, 
carrying a large stake, proceeded out into the open 
ground, and planted it firmly in the earth. O God ! 
the horrid truth now became clear. It was theii 
intention to tie their prisoners to the stake, and use 
them as a target for their arrows ! The boys had 
heard that this was a common custom among Indians 
with their captives ; and each of them uttered a ery 
of terror as they recognized the fearful preparations. 

They had but little time to shout to each other ; 
and what they said was drowned by the yells of the 
squaws and children, who leaped and danced over the 
ground, evidently delighted with the prospect of the 
horrid spectacle they were about to witness. 

Fortunately Basil was selected as the first victim. 
His superior size and age, no doubt, obtained him that 
preference. He was rudely seized by a pair of In- 
dians, and dragged up to the stake, where the savages 
commenced stripping him — by way of making a 
better mark of his naked body ! 

As soon as they had loosened his arms and pulled 
off his hunting shirt, the embroidered pouch attracted 
tneir attention.. One of them seized it, and drew 
forth its contents, — which proved to be a pipe head 
of the red clay stone ^ — the celebrated steatite. As 


360 


THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. 


Boon a*? the savage set his eyes upon it, he uttered $ 
strange exclamation, and handed it to his companion. 
The latter took it into his hands, uttered a similar 
ejaculation, and carrying it with him, ran back to the 
crowd. These, as soon as it reached them, could be 
seen passing it from hand to hand, each examining 
it minutely, and making some remark ; but one In- 
dian, more than the rest, seemed to be excited upon 
beholding it ; and this one, after he had gazed upon 
it for a moment, ran hurriedly towards Basil, followed 
by all the others ! 

This was the opportunity which Basil wished for , 
and as the Indian stood in front of him, and pointed 
to the pipe, as if waiting for an explanation, the boy, 
his hands being now free, deliberately and with cool- 
ness made several signs which had been taught him 
by his father. These signs were at once understood 
by the Indian, who sprang forward, pulled off the 
cords that bound Basil’s ankles, raised him to his 
feet, embracing him as he did so with friendly excla- 
mations ! All the other Indians now pressed forward, 
and grasped him by the hand, while some ran to 
Lucien and Fran9ois, who in a few moments were 
likewise set free ! 

All three were now carried to one of the tents , 
dry clothes were put upon them, and as soon as it 
could be got ready, a feast was set before them : so 
that their raptors, who but the moment before were 
about to put them one by one to a most cruel death, 
now seemed to si rive with each other which should 
nonor them the most ! The Indian, however, who 
had shown so mu<)h interest at seeing the mysterious 


THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. 


m\ 

dipe head, was allowed to take precedence in waiting 
upon them ; and it was into his tent that our adven- 
turers had been carried. 

You will by this time wonder what there could be 
in a simple pipe head to have caused all this sudden 
and mysterious effect. I will tell you in as few words 
os possible. 

You have no doubt heard of the celebrated Shawano 
chief Tecumseh — perhaps the greatest Indian war- 
rior that ever lived, as well as the most remarkable 
of Indian statesmen. You may have heard too that 
during the last war between England and the United 
States, Tecumseh, taking advantage of the difference 
between these nations, endeavored to excite the Indians 
to a general rising, for the purpose of driving all white 
men from the soil of America. Tecumseh had a 
brother, Elswatawa, better known by the name of 
“ the Prophet.” This brother was to the full as 
enthusiastic eis the chief himself in the wish to carry 
out their great design ; and for this purpose he under- 
took a crusade to every tribe of Indians in the western 
parts of America. He was a man of great talents and 
eloquence, and was received with friendship wherever 
he went. The cause which he advocated was dear 
to all Indians ; and of course he was listened to, and 
smoked the calumet with the men of every tribe. 
Now, this very calumet, which had been used by the 
Prophet throughout all his wanderings, was Ae iden- 
tical one which Basil carried, and which, by its strange 
carvings and hieroglyphics, was at once recognized 
oy these Indians, who were of the Osage tribe — one 
0^ those which the Prophet had visited 
31 


THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. 


But y ou will ask how this calumet came into tht 
possession of Basil’s father, and why its possessioc 
insured such mysterious protection to our adventurers. 
That I can also explain. Tecumseh was killed in the 
war with the Americans ; but the Prophet lived for 
many years afterwards. Shortly after having emi- 
grated to America, during one of his excursions near 
St. Louis, the colonel — the father of our boy hunt- 
ers — met with this strange Indian ; and through 
some circumstances which happened, the Frenchman 
and he became fast friends. Presents were exchanged 
between them, and that which was received by the 
latter was the red calumet. The Prophet, on giving 
it, told the colonel that, if ever he should have occa- 
sion to wander among the Indian tribes, it might prove 
useful to him ; and at the same time initiated him 
into certain signs which he was to make use of in 
such time of need. In these signs the colonel had 
instructed Basil, and we have already witnessed their 
effect. The Indian who had best understood them, 
and in whom they had produced the strongest emo- 
tions, happened to be a Shawano himself — one 
of that very tribe to which both the Prophet and 
Tecumseh belonged, and which is now but a rem- 
nant, most of its warlike sons being either dead or 
scattered among the nomad bands that roam over 
the great western prairies. Such, then, was the his- 
tory of the red calumet, which had proved the pro- 
tector of our adventurous hunters. 

In a short time they were enabled to communicate 
with the Indians by signs ; for no people can under 
stand such language better than Indians. The bova 


THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. 


6b*S 


informed the Shawano who they were, and for what 
purpose they had ventured upon the praiiies. On 
learning the nature of their expedition, the Indians 
were filled with astonishment as well as admiration 
for the courage of these young hunters. They tolc 
the latter, in return, that they themselves were out 
hunting the buffaloes — that they were now on the 
skirts of the great herd, and they believed that one 
or two white buffaloes had been seen. Furthermore, 
they added, that if the boys would remain, and hunt 
for a few days in company with them, no pains should 
be spared to kill or capture one of these animals 
which should be placed at the disposal of their young 
guests. Of course this invitation was cheerfully 
accepted. 

I might narrate many more adventures that befel! 
our Boy Hunters ; but I fear, young reader, you are 
already tired of the prairies. Suffice it, then, to say 
that, after some days spent in hunting with the Indians, 
a ivhite buffalo was at length killed, his skin taken of! 
in the proper manner, and after being saturated with 
a preserving ointment which Lucien had broughi 
along with him, was carefully packed upon the back 
of the mule Jeannette. Our adventurers now bade 
farewell to their Indian friends, and set out on their 
return homewards. They were accompanied to the 
confines of Louisiana by the Shawano and several 
other Indians, who there took leave of them. In due 
time they safely reached the old house at Point 
^^-oiipee, where I need not tell you they met with a 


564 


THE MYSTERIOUS WALLET. 


•oyous and affectionate welcome, both from then 
father and the ex-chassmr ^ Hugot. The old naturalist 
had gained what he wished for, and was as happy as 
man could be. He was prouder than ever of his 
hoy-men^ — his “ young Nimrods,” as he now called 
them, — and on many a winter’s night, by the cheerftil 
log fire, did he take pleasure in listening to the slor> 
ef their adventures in search of a white hufsdc. 





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